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Max and Emma have different walking behaviors, which provides challenges, frustration, moments of laughter and also of terror.  Our country road at 7 am is virtually traffic free, except for the big Yellow Monster, also known as the school bus.  Max has declared war on the monster and hears it rounding the bend, climbing the hill, before Emma or I do.
With Emma forging ahead and Max lagging behind, listening, I stand arms outstretched thankful neither of them are Mastiffs or else I would be pulled apart.  As the bus rounds the corner, Max rises up on his back legs and lunges forward, while Emma calmly eats grass or sticks her nose in the crawdad holes in the ditches. I immediately reel Max closer shortening his leash.  His fury grows, he snarls, he barks, putting on the ugliest face a Shih Tzu can muster, the driver waves, sleepy kids leaning against the windows drowsily regard the spectacle and I smile unable to wave with my hands gripping both leashes.  Once the bus rounds the next bend, the scenario ends.
This happens every school day of the year. If I were the dog whisperer or even a decent dog trainer, this could be avoided, but alas, I am not. I tell Max, “Saved your b__(backside), again.” To which he just romps up to join Emma and continue their walk.
As God often does, this morning God made me consider His leash on me…not like mine on Max, but still a tether.  In the Old Testament God gave his people the Law and the Prophets, not to bind them but so they could Live.  But that leash could not hold them…over and over again they ran away. What the law could not do, Jesus did by loving me.
“Love is a silken cord, strong as a chain of steel.”  His leash is Love.
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