Blind Faith

I frequently hear the following from passers-by when I’m out walking Abbye: “Oh, she must be so tired,” or “you’re walking her poor little feet off!” This is because she trails along behind me, keeping the leash taut, and onlookers seem to assume it’s because I’m imposing a pace that she can’t handle.

The reality is that she’s most comfortable with that arrangement. Since she’s blind, the tight leash is her feedback and security mechanism to ensure that she doesn’t take a misstep. That’s not to say that she’s perfectly adapted to the arrangement. Occasionally, she’ll get excited or startled and will veer off to the side, beyond my shadow. Depending on where we are, she’ll fall off the curb or stumble onto a lawn. The worst case is when she decides to speed up and tries to get ahead of me; that rarely has a good outcome. But, on the whole, she seems to understand that things work out better when she lets me lead the way.

I think Abbye’s situtation has relevance to our relationship with God. For one thing, we’re blind and He’s not. We can’t see into the next second; He’s not only seen eternity but He’s been there and back.

Also, His guidance is perfect (unlike mine; I’ve been known to get distracted and let Abbye bump into obstacles)…but the leash is loose enough that we can veer off or try to run ahead if we decide we’re better equipped than Him to forge our path. The outcome of doing this almost inevitably results in pain or chastening.

I know that some folks will be uncomfortable with the leash analogy, and the flippant answer is to remind them that they’re the “Ten Commandments,” not the “Ten Suggestions.” But it goes beyond that. God’s laws — every last one of them — are laid down for our own good, out of a desire to help us avoid bad things.

So, the next time you’re tempted to run ahead or backwards or amok, do what Abbye does: pay attention to that gentle tug that will remind you of the right direction and speed. You’ll find that God’s eyes work plenty well for the both of you.