The False Start, The Slack Lead, and The Long Game
A work mishap, a stubborn dog, and learning to trust the One who knows the route in 2026.
New Year, hello to 2026.
I started writing this blog back at the end of August. My goal has always been simple: to encourage people to find faith, and to understand that it is okay to not be very good at it.
And speaking of not being very good at things, let’s talk about my first week back at work.
On Friday, I woke up with that heavy, post-Christmas feeling. You know the one—where the alarm clock feels like a personal insult. I hadn’t quite gotten back into the routine of actually getting out of bed rather than lying there, having a coffee and toast, and enjoying some lazy time with my better half.
Grumbling, I dragged myself downstairs, booted up the laptop, and logged into work. I stared at the screen, waiting for the emails to load, only to realise... silence. I checked my calendar.
I had booked the day off.
I sat there for a moment, torn between relief and feeling like an absolute muppet. But, as is often the way with these things, if I hadn’t made that mistake, I wouldn’t have been awake early enough to take Buckley on the specific walk that led to this thought.
The War of the Walk I was walking Buckley around the estate where we live. Because my brain was still half in “work mode” (despite the day off), I wanted a quick walk. I wanted efficiency.
Buckley, however, does not care about efficiency.
We have a number of grassy patches on the estate. Buckley likes to go from one to another, conducting a thorough investigation of each blade of grass. He can, annoyingly when you want to get a move on, dawdle. He sniffs. He stares. He refuses to move.
Usually, I give the lead a little tug. “Come on, let’s go.”
But on this walk, I decided to stop. I decided I wouldn’t move until he was ready. I patiently stood there, watching him sniff, waiting for him to decide he was good.
It was with this thought that I saw a similarity with life and walking with Jesus.
The Grassy Patch Metaphor Here is the reality: Buckley is representing me (and you).
The grass that he is so content to be on—sniffing around, happy as a clam—is a moment in our lives. It represents our circumstances, our comfort zones, or perhaps a state of mental awareness we have settled into.
Maybe it’s a grudge we are holding onto because it feels safer to be angry than to forgive. Maybe it’s a habit we know isn’t great, but it’s familiar. We stand there, sniffing the ground, thinking, “ This is fine. I like it here.”
God, meanwhile, is holding the lead.
He is waiting patiently for you to come along. Now, Buckley knows he is on a walk, but he has no concept of the destination. He thinks this patch of grass is the highlight of the trip.
I, however, know the route. I know that if he just trusts me and moves on, there is a massive field five minutes away where he can run off-lead safely. I know there are other dogs to chase, balls to fetch, and treats to be had.
But he doesn’t know what is ahead of him. He is just living in that moment, nose to the dirt.
The God Who Knows the Route I realised on this walk that I am exactly the same with God.
Sometimes, I want to stay in the space I am in. I don’t want to move on to the next grassy patch. I like to stay and sniff and (take a leak up a tree), not realising what is next. I resist the tug on the lead because change is scary.
“The Lord says, ‘I will guide you along the best pathway for your life. I will advise you and watch over you.”
Psalm 32:8 (NLT)
Other times, I am the opposite. I want to move on as quickly as possible. I see the next patch I want to go to, and I drag God along, not realising or enjoying the first moment I have.
We pull left. We pull right. We stop dead. We refuse to walk at His pace. But what joy it is when we finally fall into step with Him.
Finishing Well The other week, I was at our church small group where someone was sharing their testimony. In this, he mentioned that his life goal is simply to finish well.
He wants to get to the end of his life while still believing in Jesus.
That stuck out for me. It sounds simple, doesn’t it? But as he said, he has seen so many fall away because of obstacles. They hit a patch of prickly grass, or they get distracted by a squirrel, and they drop out of the walk.
I hope and pray I am like him in my faith—to the end, no matter the obstacles.
Looking at the times where God has been pulling me to leave the grassy patch I am on, it can be scary. Sometimes we don’t want to move because we can’t let go. We can’t ask for forgiveness, seek help, or deal with a wound. We like to stay where we are because although it isn’t always good, it’s safe because it’s known.
Or perhaps we are having the time of our lives and suddenly it’s time to shake it up and move on and do the most crazy thing ever—like move halfway across the world, sell everything, and live in a car for a month.
Change is scary. But the Walker beside you is safe.
A New Year, A New Walk So it is a new year. A new start. A new blog post. A new part of my (our) walk.
I don’t fear what 2026 will bring. I hope that it involves lots of laughter. I know it will likely include tears. But I am walking it. I have my shoes strapped on.
I am looking forward to where He leads me. I hope I can catch the nudges when it is time to stay and when it is time to move. But mostly, I want to walk without fear, knowing that even if I am just sniffing the grass right now, He knows where the green pastures are.
I hope this year, no matter where your faith is, that you continue to walk. Don’t stay in the areas of your life that stop you from progressing.
Fear not. And if you have to fear, then do it in spite of the fear, because God walks beside you always.
Blessings.