In the spring of 2005, we moved back home _ both of us born and raised here, leaving after high school for a life down south and raising a family.

The kids are gone and it’s only us and the two dogs. We lived in a camper for seven months as our home was being built. That was an experience with many great stories to tell, but to stay on track, let me introduce you to my wonderful dog, Max. Max is a chocolate Lab who is now 7 years old.

The puppy years were quite a challenge and we’re proud to say that Max lived to tell about it. Oh, now don’t go ooing and ahhing because I just said that, you all have had dogs like that too.

Anyway _ Max is a wanderer. Down south he’d run off to the neighbors’ house about a mile away and hang out with Mike, who loved to spend the day throwing the tennis ball for him. At times I would tie him up outside if he was out by himself, but otherwise he was off the leash and we played and played. He lived in the house and got dry and canned food every day. Up until we moved here, he slept in bed with us. Now Max and Katie, our 3-year-old yellow Lab, live in our garage. Spoiled, huh?

Well, it was a cold, cold night last winter. It was dark, the wind was blowing so hard it was howling and the snow was thick and heavy. I let the dogs out at our new home and let them run around the house and play in the snow.

It wasn’t long until Max took off. There he went down the driveway, and my dear Katie followed obediently behind her big brother. I ran into the house for the car keys and started the car. The windshield was full of ice and snow, and when I turned on the heat, all the windows fogged over. So, I started down the driveway with the defrost on full blast and the car windows open, calling "Max! Katie! Come on, guys!"

Well, we have a long driveway and Katie’s devotion to Max has its own boundaries, as she never follows him for too long before she turns around and comes home. So at the bottom of the driveway I found her. I loaded her in the car and we started down the road calling for Max.

I saw his footprints in the snow. I saw them winding down the road, going off into the woods and coming back out again. I watched as the tracks continued to zigzag down the road. We went farther and I didn’t see tracks at all, so I turned around. I was freezing by then and the defrost on the windshield wasn’t working as fast as I would have liked, but I needed the window open anyway to call out for Max.

The snow was so thick it was covering up the tracks I had just seen a moment before, so I eased the car back up the driveway and told Katie, "I can’t do anymore; he’s on his own." After seven years of chasing this dog, I was tired.

Coming into the garage, I just lost it. I sat on the floor and hugged Katie and cried so hard I was sobbing. I just couldn’t understand. We gave him lots of love, good food, a warm home, and we played every day. Why does he run away? What is out there? What is he searching for?

I realized then that when God looks at us, he sees the same thing. He loves us so much and wants to pour that love out on us. He wants to provide and protect us. He shines his mercy down and wants to cover us in his grace.

Why do we run away? What is out there for us apart from God? What is it we are searching for? If you run, he will nudge you to come back _ a nudge that is his pleading for you to stay in his loving arms.

For "I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future" (Jeremiah 29:11 New International Version).

Good news! He has a good plan for your life. A plan of hope and not harm. But if you choose to continue running, he will let you go.

Max came home. Where are you?

Cindy Andrews is music minister with Into the Light based in Morris.