We are dog people. No apologies. I know some people like cats, or birds, or lizards. They are fine, I suppose, if that's what gets you excited. But for me, there's nothing better than a dog who is eager to please and waiting to greet you when you get home.

Over the course of our life, we've had more than a dozen dogs grace our lives...and each one was quite different from the other. Isha the Shepherd-Collie mix was our first family dog and she was gentle and loving. Jack the Pug could be a little grouchy. Chip the Black Lab was loyal only to me (that didn't go over very well with the rest of the family). Dale was a rescued Pointer who was not very bright but sweet as can be.

Currently we have Bruno and Louie living with us. Bruno is a Lab-Boxer-Poodle mix and is incredibly smart. Louie is a mini Poodle-Shizue mix and has a serious Napoleon Complex.

Years ago we rescued a Yellow Lab with severe separation anxiety and ADHD. She spent the first year of her life in a cage and needed something in her mouth at all times. In the 9 years we had her in our lives, she never got over her fixation on the oral. We repeatedly worked with her to let go of the item that had her attention. I cannot count the number of times we used the command, "Release." "Release, girl." "Come on, Sidney, release." quickly followed by, "Sidney, RELEASE!" And always without success.

Certainly, we gave her a better life but if I'm being honest, it was at quite the cost to our own mental health!

Years after Sidney died, I found myself in a difficult situation. I don't remember if it was home, work, family or personal. What I do remember is that I was having many sleepless nights. No matter how many times I thought through the problem, I held onto it, mulling it over, searching for answers, hoping for comfort.

And one night, I heard Jesus speaking to me. As my wife slept quietly beside me, I heard Jesus say ever so gently, "Release, Curt. Release." "Curt. Release."

In that moment, I laughed out loud. Jesus made it clear that I was no different that my neurotic dog. Like Sidney with a bone (or a bucket, or plant stand, or chew toy, etc.), I couldn't let it go! I'd taken the matter into my own metaphorical mouth, chewing on the problem, looking for answers night and day. It didn't fix the problem, it only made me more miserable, anxious, worried, and apprehensive.

"Release." "Release." "Curt, it's okay. Release."

How many times do we allow our own anxious fixation on the problem keep us from finding a life of peace?

How often do we lose focus on the One who will bring peace that exceeds our own understanding, and guards our hearts and minds?

Unfortunately for her, Sidney never figured it out. Thankfully, I'm getting closer. How about you? What are you holding in your teeth that can be put down, that can be released?