Lessons From Biscuit

My dog Biscuit is a tiny little weenie dog with a full-size personality. And she is always in a hurry.

If I open the back door, she bolts like she’s on a secret mission—usually to chase down a lizard or grasshopper that has no idea what’s coming. And when it’s time for a walk? She’s already bouncing at the door before I’ve even grabbed the leash. Once it’s clipped on, she’s off like a racehorse at the Kentucky Derby, tugging at full speed to be the first one out the gate.

And no matter how often I tell her to slow down, to stay close, to stop pulling—she doesn't listen.

Lately, I’ve realized… she’s a lot like me.

I get what feels like a good idea in my head, and I rush ahead. I don’t always stop to pray about it, or sit quietly with it. I just go—driven by enthusiasm or the need to make things happen. And I can almost hear God saying gently, “Slow down. Walk with Me. Let Me lead you. There’s a better way.”

There’s a verse in Proverbs that comes to mind:

“There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way to death.” — Proverbs 14:12 (ESV)

It’s a reminder that just because something feels good or urgent doesn’t mean it’s best. God’s way may not always be the fastest or flashiest. But it’s wiser. Safer. Better.

The song by Forrest Frank says it plainly:

“Oh, Lord, Your way's better.”

That’s the posture I want. Less sprinting. More listening. Less pulling ahead. More walking in step with the One who sees what I can’t.

Biscuit may not change her ways anytime soon—but maybe I can. I’m learning to trust that His way really is better… and I don’t want to miss it by running too far ahead.