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“Be the person your dog thinks you are.”

JW Stephens

There is a reason dogs are referred to as “man’s best friend.” The love a dog has for its master is beyond compare. Your dog thinks you are the best person in the world. They see you at your best and at your worst, and they love you no matter what. You can act crazy and silly and dance around your living room, singing at the top of your lungs, and, instead of making fun of you, your dog will give you an “Oh. So this is what we’re doing?” look and then run in circles, “dancing” with you. Your dog sees you naked and thinks you are perfect because your dog doesn’t give a flip what you look like or about the latest number on the scales. Your dog is just happy to be in your presence. You can tell your dog your deepest secrets, your hopes, dreams, and regrets, and your dog will never, ever judge you. When you’re crying, your dog will never ask what’s wrong or try to fix it. Instead, she will lay her head on your leg just to let you know she is there for you. Dogs are always happy to see you and they will always, always forgive you. You can get mad at them, yell at them, put them outside because you don’t want to be around them, but as soon as you reach out, they come running back to you because their sole purpose in life is to love you and all they desire is for you to love them in return. (And maybe a game of Frisbee, and a treat now and then.) I have no doubt if it came down to my life or hers, she would save me without hesitation, even though I might not deserve it.

Basically, my dog thinks I am perfect. Unless my husband is around. Then, I am a close second.

But yesterday I called my dog a bitch. I actually said this. “You really need to quit being a bitch.” I talk to Kona all the time. I won’t even blame it on the quarantine. Normally, she’s a great listener. Lately, however, she hasn’t been listening to me and it’s frustrating. Yesterday, when we were walking, she saw a neighbor’s dog. The dog gave a single bark as if to say, “Hi.” Immediately, Kona raised her hackles (love that word), and started barking and pulling on her leash, trying to get to the other dog. I know her instinct is to protect. That is why we got her, after all, but in this case, it was only me, and the neighbor’s dog was not a threat. Still, I had to pull her down the street, giving her the command to ignore it, and she finally calmed down. The whole incident lasted less than a minute and we continued our walk, but not before I told her to stop being…you know, what she literally is. Pretty sure I didn’t mean it that way.

Now, most of what I write about is based on my faith in God. Lessons I have learned over the years to help me overcome trials and hardships, heartbreak and stress. I believe in Jesus so strongly for one simple reason. I know where I was when He found me, and I know what He has done for me since. (I guess that’s two reasons.) Life isn’t sunshine and rainbows every day, but it occurred to me I very seldom talk about my current storms. Life just sucks sometimes and, honestly, it’s embarrassing to put it all out there. However, after the day I had yesterday, I really needed to share this: Just because I am a Christian and strive to live my life to please Jesus, doesn’t mean I am perfect. Maybe a better way to put it is: I know I am not perfect. I’m only human.

And I think someone out there might need to hear this.

I spent a lot of years attempting to live according to the standards of others, trying to be some form of perfection. Because I thought that’s what Jesus wanted. Do this or don’t do that because of what others might think. Drinking was taboo. Cussing was taboo. Basically, anything that was less than perfect was taboo, and if I even slightly slipped up, I knew I would be judged and I knew I was going to hell. (Or, at least, that’s how it felt.) To make it worse, I was also judgmental. (Side note: Because of this, I spent a lot of years living a ‘holier than thou’ life. I will never be sorry for telling you about Jesus, but if I ever offended you or made you feel like I was better than you in any way, that was not my intention. I went about it all wrong and, from the bottom of my heart, I am sorry. Trust me, I learned my lesson.) So, during that time in my life, when someone called me a ‘goody, goody,’ I was insulted, but isn’t that the image I’d been trying to portray?

Is it ok if I’m transparent for a second?

I am a Christian, but I am a very flawed human.

There are days I feel like I am failing as a mom, as a wife, as a daughter, as a friend, as a Christian. In reality, I know I’m not failing, but I always wonder what I could do better.

I would venture to guess if I took a poll, most people who know me would agree I am a pleasant person, but you know what? I get tired of being nice. Part of my prayer every day is “Help me show the love of Jesus to those around me,” but honestly there are times I just don’t want to. Times when someone is rude to me or unkind to someone else. When that happens, I don’t want to smile. I don’t want to think about WWJD, I don’t want to be the bigger person, I don’t want to be the professional, and I don’t want to ‘kill ‘em with kindness.’ Sometimes I just want to get in their face and say, “You know what? Up yours. Go sit on a cactus.” (You know…because that will really show them who’s boss.)

Sometimes, I just have a crummy attitude and I cuss a little. I can throw fit and have myself one heck of a pity party. I’ve been known to snap at the ones I love the most. My husband. My kids.

And then there are days I lose my patience and call my dog a bitch.

Here’s the thing: Life is full of choices. Choices to be kind, caring, loving, and forgiving. Choices to show grace and mercy rather than judgment. All of our choices have consequences. Sometimes the consequences are good, but sometimes the consequences leave us hanging our head a little and asking forgiveness. But none of our choices change who God is, and I’ve always found comfort in knowing that God loves me—in spite of me.

I would rather choose kindness and grace than to be a person who can’t control her tongue. I would rather keep my mouth shut and smile than show someone my crummy attitude. I would rather make someone else feel important than to look in the mirror and not like who I see. I choose to be careful with my words because I know how it hurts when someone isn’t. If I look at the bigger picture, I know kindness always wins. It isn’t always easy, but it always wins.

I know I’ll never be perfect. There will be times I lose my temper and tell someone to sit on a cactus. (But only because they really deserve it.) There will be times I stumble and even fall, but I will always find unconditional love, forgiveness, and the strength to get back up because God and Kona don’t expect perfection. They know I am only human, and they still choose me. All either of them asks is for my love in return.

So, no. I am not always who my dog thinks I am.

But I sure want to be.