A man has a dog in a leash at his side. The dog is hungry – it’s supper time. The man brings out a bowl of food, filled with the dog’s favorite meal, and he sets it on the ground in front of the dog. How does the dog respond?
Some dogs will immediately strain at the collar – lurching forward, maybe barking or whining. They can think about nothing other than their fierce hunger and that enticing dish. That’s a normal dog. That’s his nature – his character.
But there are other dogs who are better trained. They will sit, quietly, obediently, faithfully. They won’t fight or strain. They will wait. But notice the eyes. Where are the dog’s eyes? Their eyes will be fixed on the food. The dog is well-disciplined, yes. But you know exactly what’s on his mind.
And then there is the most noble dog of all. The dog who has been well-trained by a loving master. A dog whose character exceeds all the others. A rare dog, indeed. This dog will notice the food immediately (he is hungry after all). He’ll look at the food, he’ll see it, and he’ll wag his tail. But then… and this is the key to everything… his eyes will return to the face of his master, and there his focus will remain until the master releases him.
Lord, there are many blessings in my life, and many more that you have whispered to me about – blessings that are to come, but have not yet arrived. For all of these I am deeply grateful. But train my eyes, dear Lord. Teach me to fix my eyes on you, the Author and Perfector of my faith. Let me set my mind on things above, not on things of this earth. Let me see you, loving Master. Let me see only You.