You all know by now that my adorable pup is far from perfect. The experts say a single dog year is equal to seven human years, which would make Barnabas somewhere in the mid-to-late teens. That sounds about right. He is the king of temper tantrums, and his favorite way to show his displeasure at not getting his way is to take all the blankets and pillows off the couch, through the doggie door, and out into the backyard where he rips them all to shreds. I’ve lost count of how many pillows and blankets have been the victim of just such an attack.

During his most recent hissy fit, he discovered that I had put away all the pillows and blankets except for his ratty throw that has somehow survived multiple tantrums. I can’t say what happened next because we weren’t home, but my best guess is that in his effort to get the blanket off the couch and out the door, Jason’s new hiking boot (which happened to be sitting beside the sofa) got tangled in the blanket and made the journey outside. The reason I say this is that Barnabas has never, ever destroyed a shoe. Blankets? Yes. Pillows? Definitely. Every toy we’ve ever bought him? Sure. But never, ever a shoe. However, once the boot was outside, it seems the temptation of a new chew toy was too much for my moody mutt, and he ate through the entire back and the sole.

To say we were upset when we discovered this misbehavior would be an understatement. Those were brand new boots. Jason had only worn them like three times. And they weren’t cheap either. I felt sick to my stomach when I surveyed the damage. Once again, Barnabas’ indestructible blanket had survived, but the same couldn’t be said for Jason’s shoe.

The good news is that we caught Barnabas in the act of chewing on the shoe, so we were able to discipline him then and there. His remorse was evident as he tucked his tail and inched into the house where he crawled into his crate and pouted for a while. He could tell we weren’t happy with him, and part of me wanted to comfort him. But, I had to be strong and firm. He had to learn his lesson.

The next day, as the three of us headed out for a short hike, I commented to Barnabas, “See the old shoes Daddy has to wear. That’s your fault.” I wasn’t still angry with him—a little sick to my stomach maybe, but not angry—but I teased him nonetheless. Jason, in his gracious way, said, “Don’t bring that up. It’s over and done with. He knows what he did was wrong.  It’s been forgiven, so let’s forget about it and go on.”

My first reaction was a fleshly one. I wanted to pout like a scolded child who had just been reminded of her lousy attitude, but fortunately, the Spirit was at work in me as well. He brought to my mind the reminder that He, too, has forgiven and forgotten many wrongs. I’ve done horrible things in my life—things I’m not proud of—but God doesn’t remember them anymore. They’re under the blood of Jesus. Forgiven. Forgotten. Never to be brought up again. I don’t know about you, but I’m so grateful for that! What a blessing to know such grace.

Today, it might not be well with Jason’s sole, but I’m glad I can say, “It is well with my soul!” What about you? 

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. ”

— I John 1:9

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