Max Lucado 3:16 – The Numbers of Hope: June 21, 2016

My dog, Salty…sleeps next to me…as I write.  He’s a cranky cuss, but I like him….  He didn’t have much to start with, now the seasons have taken his energy, teeth, hearing, and all but eighteen-inches worth of eyesight….  He’s nervous and edgy, quick to growl, and slow to trust.  As I reach out to pet him, he yanks back.  Still, I pet the old coot….

We are a lot like Salty….  For all our chest pumping and braggadocio, we are an anxious folk; can’t see a step into the future, can’t hear the one who owns us.  No wonder we try to gum the hand that feeds us. But God reaches and touches.

Max Lucado

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