Looking into the Soul

Happy Monday to our CFC Family;

As I’ve mentioned before, our family currently has two dogs: Duke and Macey. Duke is a golden retriever who belongs to our daughter, and Macey is our sweet but cautious rescue dog, who’s been with us for nearly ten years.

Macey’s story is a tender one. Her mother was rescued from up north while pregnant, and Macey was born shortly after. While she never experienced direct trauma herself, we understand her mother did — and that emotional pain may have been passed on to the litter. Macey has always been a nervous, guarded dog. She doesn’t seek out much attention, prefers to be alone, and only accepts affection when she feels safe. She won’t hold eye contact; in fact, if you try, she becomes uncomfortable, starts to whine, and quickly turns her head away.

Then there’s Duke. Duke is everything Macey is not — bold, joyful, and completely trusting. He craves attention constantly and has no emotional baggage holding him back. He’ll come right up to your face, look directly into your eyes, and just stay there, unflinching. It’s as if he’s saying, “I’m here. I see you. And I want you to see me, too.” At first, when we got Duke, I found this behavior a little surprising. After years of having Macey, we were used to a distant, anxious, and somewhat antisocial companion. Duke’s openness was unexpected — but refreshing.

Watching the two of them interact with us in such drastically different ways led me to a deeper reflection — not about dogs, but about people.  And more specifically, about our relationship with God.

Now, I don’t mean to draw a direct comparison between our pets and our Creator. But the emotional parallels are hard to ignore.

Many people, especially those who have been through trauma or spiritual hurt, find it hard to trust God. We approach Him like Macey approaches us: cautiously, guarded, and afraid of what might happen if we get too close. We might be worried about what He’ll see if He really looks into our hearts. We flinch at intimacy. We turn our heads when He gently tries to hold our gaze.

But God, isn’t afraid of closeness. He desires it. He draws near to us, looking not to condemn or shame, but to connect. He already knows everything about us, and yet He longs for us to know Him! Not just intellectually, but personally, deeply, soul-to-soul.

Jeremiah 29:13 says:

“You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”

This is not a demand — it’s a promise. God isn’t asking us to have it all together. He’s simply inviting us to seek Him —genuinely, fully, honestly. He’s already close. He’s already looking at us with love.

And this truth is beautifully echoed in Psalm 139:1–2, 23–24:

“You have searched me, Lord, and you know me.

You know when I sit and when I rise;

you perceive my thoughts from afar...

Search me, God, and know my heart;

test me and know my anxious thoughts.

See if there is any offensive way in me,

and lead me in the way everlasting.”

God already sees the anxious thoughts we try to hide. He sees the broken places we’d rather avoid. And still — He stays. He searches us not to judge, but to guide and restore.

So maybe the real lesson from Macey and Duke is this: While trauma and past experiences may shape how we respond to love and closeness, they don’t have to define our relationship with God. He’s already near. He’s already looking. And when we’re ready — even just a little — He’s there, full of grace, patiently waiting for us to lift our gaze.

Reflection Questions:

1.   Do you see yourself more in Macey or Duke when it comes to your relationship with God?

2.   What keeps you from looking fully into God’s eyes and allowing Him to look into your soul?

3.   What would it look like this week to open your heart to God — even a little more than yesterday?

Have a wonderful week and we’ll see you Sunday!