With Tears and Pawprints: What My Dog Max Taught Me About Moving Forward in Faith
As I write these words, my eyes are wet.
Tears are falling—not out of despair, but from a place I can’t quite explain.
A place where the sorrow of life and the beauty of God collide in the same moment.
And sitting next to me, as he often does, is Max.
He doesn’t say anything.
He doesn’t have the words to ask what’s wrong.
But he knows.
Somehow—he knows.
He looks at me with that soft, tilted head… those curious eyes that seem to ask, “Why do your eyes leak when your heart speaks?”
And I sit in silence, letting the tears fall, and he stays beside me.
Quiet.
Present.
Faithful.
And in that moment, I’m reminded: Max is a gift from God.
A Simple Companion with a Profound Assignment
Some people might say, “It’s just a dog.”
But anyone who’s ever had a pet that feels like family knows better.
Max isn’t just a pet.
He’s part of my daily rhythm.
He’s a quiet supporter when no one else is around.
He’s a living reminder of God’s design—that even in fur and four legs, His comfort can be known.
There’s no theological training in Max.
But there’s unconditional love.
There’s unshakable loyalty.
There’s joy in the little things.
There’s compassion when the tears flow.
And while he doesn’t understand my sorrow, he knows to stay.
To be close.
To rest his head on my knee, as if to say, “I can’t fix it… but I’m here.”
God Sends Companions for the Journey
The more I walk with God, the more I see that He sends companions for our hard seasons.
Sometimes that companion is a person.
Sometimes it’s a scripture.
Sometimes it’s a memory.
And sometimes—
It’s a dog with a wagging tail and eyes full of grace.
Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 says:
“Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up.”
God knew that in this life, we’d need someone—something—to steady us when we fall.
And for me, Max is part of that provision.
He doesn’t run from my emotion.
He doesn’t try to distract me from the pain.
He simply stays.
And there’s something sacred in that.
Jesus Wept—and So Do We
Some days, I cry because of the brokenness I see in the world.
Some days, it’s from spiritual weight.
Other days, I can’t name it—I just feel the pressure.
But the tears come.
And Max doesn’t question them.
He doesn’t ask me to hide them.
He just leans in.
Which reminds me that Jesus never rebukes our tears either.
In John 11:35, the shortest verse in the Bible says everything we need to know:
“Jesus wept.”
He didn’t weep because He was weak.
He wept because He was deeply moved.
He felt the weight of human sorrow.
He entered into the grief of Mary and Martha.
And though He knew resurrection was coming—He cried anyway.
Because compassion doesn’t require explanation.
Max Doesn’t Know What I’m Writing—But He Knows It Matters
As I sit and write, Max keeps looking up at me.
Maybe he senses something sacred happening.
Maybe he just wants a snack.
But I believe—on some level—he feels the holy heaviness that comes when words carry eternity inside them.
He doesn’t understand why I write with tears.
But he stays close while I do.
And that’s all God asks of us sometimes too.
He doesn't always explain the pain.
He doesn't always fix it right away.
But He stays.
He leans in.
He rests beside us.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” —Psalm 34:18
That’s who He is.
That’s what Max reflects.
The Spiritual Power of Simply Staying
We live in a world that runs from brokenness.
People see pain and they flinch.
They move on.
They try to explain it away or distract from it.
But dogs don’t do that.
Max doesn’t retreat when I’m sad.
He gets closer.
And isn’t that what we long for in God?
Not answers.
But presence.
Not a roadmap.
But a shoulder to lean on.
Not someone to fix us.
But someone to stay with us while we heal.
“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified… for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.” —Deuteronomy 31:6
Max reminds me of that every day.
He’s not trying to rush me through the moment.
He just wants to be in it with me.
3 Ways We Can Keep Moving Forward in Challenges
Max doesn’t understand everything.
But he keeps moving forward.
And in his own way, he teaches me how to do the same.
If you’re in a hard season right now… if your tears are falling more than your faith feels like rising… here are three biblical ways to keep moving forward—even when you don’t feel strong:
1. Lean Into God’s Presence (Even When You Don’t Have the Words)
Sometimes all you can do is sit.
Sometimes the tears are your only prayer.
And that’s okay.
“In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.” —Romans 8:26
God doesn’t need you to articulate your pain.
He already knows.
He already sees.
He already stays.
Just lean in.
Turn off the noise.
Sit in His presence.
Let Him minister to the parts of you that words can’t reach.
2. Keep Taking Small Steps (Faith Isn’t a Sprint—It’s a Long Walk of Obedience)
Max doesn’t try to fix everything.
He doesn’t understand the weight I carry.
But he keeps walking.
He gets up every day.
He moves.
He eats.
He plays.
He follows me from room to room.
And that reminds me:
Sometimes, moving forward means simply not quitting.
“Let us not grow weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” —Galatians 6:9
You don’t have to feel strong to take the next step.
You just have to take it.
One page written.
One prayer whispered.
One kind word offered.
One act of obedience.
Keep stepping.
Even if you’re crying.
Even if you’re doubting.
Your movement is your faith in action.
3. Surround Yourself With Simple, Steady Support (God Uses the Quiet Ones)
Max isn’t loud.
He doesn’t preach.
He doesn’t prophesy.
But he’s present.
And that’s holy.
Don’t underestimate the people (or animals) God places beside you.
You may not need another motivational message.
You may just need someone who shows up.
Who stays.
Who reminds you, “You’re not alone.”
“Therefore encourage one another and build each other up…” —1 Thessalonians 5:11
Let people love you.
Let the Holy Spirit comfort you.
Let even the small companions carry big purpose in your life.
Because sometimes, the most powerful encouragement is a silent one.
Final Reflections: Max, My Quiet Messenger
As I finish this writing, the tears have stopped.
Max is still here—resting his head against my foot.
He doesn’t know the spiritual weight of what I’m writing.
He doesn’t know the healing that’s happening in me as the words come out.
But he stays.
And maybe that’s what this whole thing is about.
Not answers.
Not solutions.
Just presence.
Just faithfulness.
Just quiet, Holy Spirit strength for the next step.
And when I look at Max—his eyes still soft, still curious—I can almost hear heaven whispering:
“Keep going. I’ve placed good things beside you. You are not alone.”
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