Poor Toby can’t get any rest when I’m home.

He’s the one on the left.

I feel sorry for the little fella.

Whenever I get up to move around in the house he feels compelled to stir himself out of a good rest and leave the premises. He gets as far away from me as possible. I don’t even have to enter the same room as him. If he sees me move from 2 rooms away, he scampers off.

It makes no rational sense. I have never harmed him. Never yelled at him. He’s never seen me beat my wife or children. He has only witnessed me being my typical angelic self. Giving him treats for no other reason than to win his affection.

Yet he fears me.

Then I realized that I probably run from things not really chasing me. Needlessly submitting to the fears I’ve conjured up and fostered in my own mind. Not trusting in my God who has always provided for me. Always blessed me, never hurt or harmed me. Never left me, nor forsaken me.

It makes no sense, either.

Maybe Toby isn’t my best friend yet, but God is using him to teach me a lot about myself.

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