Champ

If you become wise, you will be the one to benefit. If you scorn wisdom, you will be the one to suffer.

BRIAN, TABATHA, AND THEIR THREE teenage sons, Josiah, Caleb, and Seth, loved vacationing at Tabatha’s parents’ hundred-acre farm in Georgia. But this year they weren’t the only ones who would enjoy the rural getaway. Their dog, Champ, a pointer-setter mix, was anxiously awaiting his first visit.

When they arrived, Champ could hardly believe his eyes. Back home, he had supervised access to a two-acre backyard. Here, it seemed the property went on forever.

Champ took full advantage of his freedom, spending it in perpetual motion. There were children to play with, squirrels to chase, ponds to swim in, and ATVs to race. Champ was constantly on the go.

After breakfast on the second day, Brian sat on the front porch of the house with Tabatha, watching Champ run at full speed behind the boys on the ATVs. “I don’t think he’s stopped moving since we arrived,” Brian observed.

And other than a few brief naps, the hunting dog hadn’t. As if he were intoxicated by boundless freedom, Champ ran haphazardly through fields and wooded areas, swam laps in the pond, and was continually on alert for squirrels.

On day four, when Tabatha was getting Champ’s dinner ready, she noticed he was limping. “Brian, something’s wrong with Champ.”

“Come here, boy,” Brian said. “Let me take a look.” Brian gently ran his hand down the leg Champ was favoring, then turned the dog’s foot over.

“I see the problem.” Brian quickly examined each of Champ’s paws. “Some of his pads are completely raw.”

“Poor thing,” Tabatha empathized.

Champ’s freedom—and lack of restraint—had come at a price.

Brian gave Champ a bath and confined him to his outdoor kennel that night. The next day, much to the dog’s dismay, he was kept on a fifty-foot leash in the yard. In fact, this was how Champ spent the rest of his vacation. Day after day, his woeful eyes sought out a sympathetic human to take pity on him and let him run free again.

“Sorry, bud,” Tabatha said when his pleading eyes found her. “You need to heal. Clearly, you need some self-control in your life.”

Several months later, a healed and healthy Champ returned to the farm with his family. Hoping Champ had learned his lesson, Brian opened the car door. Champ scrambled out and took off. Wisely, Brian and Tabatha monitored his activity this time, stepping in when necessary and making Champ rest his paws.

To this day, Champ would choose to run the pads off each paw if given the opportunity. But he has a loving family who wants to keep him safe.

PAWS & PONDER . . .

In what ways can too much freedom be dangerous? Have you or someone you love ever suffered harmful consequences when you scorned wisdom?

Paws & Pray

Lord, you have made wisdom available to me—in your Word, in others’ advice, and even in my own body—when I listen. And yet so often I am tempted to disregard wisdom and go my own way. Help me choose to pursue the insight you offer and be grateful when you lovingly restrain me.