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It’s been a good day. It’s late now; my kids are heading for bed. My wife is busy doing the things she does when evening becomes night. On the ground below me, resting her head on one of my socks is a good friend. As for me, I’m sitting on the couch reflecting. Looking back. Analyzing. Wondering if I’ve been productive with the day, or have I let it slip by as if of no account. Right here, right now I can say again with all boldness; it’s been good. I had the day off. No pressures, no plans, no stress, this day was all mine. A fella asked me yesterday what I was going to do with 24 hours all to myself. I flippantly responded “I’m going to spend it with my dog.” When I said it, there was more than just a hint of truth to what might sound to others like pure silliness. Before you pass judgment, let me remind you, dog is god spelled backwards. Now, as I try to turn back the hands of the clock and hold on to the fleeting moments of the day, I am realizing the flippant words of yesterday have proven to be the truth of today. I have spent the day with my dog. No regrets, no apologies.

I will never understand how dogs can sense what’s coming the way they do, but she seemed to know this day was hers. When I got out of bed she was right there, waiting with hope in her eyes. I decided to have breakfast. I seldom ever do, but today was a special day. I had waffles. She laid at my feet. When I got dressed, her tail began to wag; she knows which clothes mean fun for her. We went for a ride, just the three of us. (Took my wife along as well, she is always welcome on days like this). Came back to the house and took care of a few things, it is no exaggeration to say she was with me the entire time, ready for her next adventure. While I was outside, the kids were playing ball with her; each time she brought it back she would look to me to make sure I didn’t need her. We went for a bike ride tonight; she stayed right beside me the entire time. Actually there was an incident with a dead cat, but I don’t think we should talk about that here. When I whistled she came. When I said sit, she sat. When I said it was time to go she was always ready. And now at the end of the day, we are still together. She’s asleep, but content. Eyes closed, but ears still tuned, waiting to hear my voice, my wants, my desires, all I would have to do is whistle and she would be ready to go. It has been a good day.

And now, I wonder, though evening never becomes night for God, does He reflect on the day the same way we do. What did he get done, how much was accomplished, was the agenda complete? Does God ask questions of Himself the same way we do? I suspect He looks back more like a dog. Remember, dog is god spelled backwards. I suspect He looks back and calls it a good day when the one He loves give Him 24 hours straight. I suspect God gets excited when we wake up in the morning and He knows the day belongs to Him. I suspect God looks back over the course of the day and sees how many times we have called His name and watched as we are astounded at how He responds. I suspect God looks back and sees a drive with just the two of us as the highlight of a day. I suspect God looks back at a bike ride and declares it good just because we were side by side. I suspect God has good days. And I suspect they are filled with those He loves.