Bonus Reflections

The Consistency of Love

February 24th - ​Episode 19​​

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In the story about the dog, one element that immediately caught my attention was the man’s unwavering consistency in his love, patience, and generosity. His steady care transformed risk into safety—every cautious move the dog made from under the table was met with the same abundant love.

Beautifully, God works in much the same way. He desires for us to be fully alive, free from pain, and open to making all things new.

There’s a Contemporary Worship song that goes, “Your love never fails, It never gives up, it never runs out on me…” which perfectly encapsulates this idea, echoing Paul’s words to the believers in Rome:
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The man in the story did not fail that dog with his love. And while some might consider using a story about a man and his dog to reference the love of God as irreverent, I ask: How much more reverence can we offer the source of LOVE than by embracing—belly up—the radical, unapologetic, patient, lavish, consistent, and limitlessly generous love of “a God that wants no Hell in us”?

I have received that lavish, patient love countless times in my life. The golden thread of this reflection is that this love has always been there for me, for you, for all of us. Yet, I suspect I’m not alone in sometimes losing sight of that truth. Even after experiencing God’s loving embrace—both directly and through the generosity of others—I find myself occasionally distracted, fixated on my pain, fear, and the insecurities, both new and old, that pull me back under the table.

If you’ve ever had a dog—especially an outdoor one—you’re likely familiar with that favorite spot: under the deck or porch, in a flower bed, or somewhere similar. A place where a dog digs into the dirt and lies with its belly on the cool, shaded soil to stay safe. From that vantage point, they can see everything, are close enough to respond when you step outside, and are perfectly positioned to pounce if anything enters their domain.

Yet when I retreat to my own “spot,” I find myself alone—isolated, alienated, disconnected—and often prefer hiding from the world rather than embracing it. That’s one of the paradoxes of pain: the very thing I yearn for becomes the one I’m too afraid to allow.

Still, in every moment of hurt, amid sorrow and fear, a loving God—tender and patient—places exactly what I need within reach. Never demanding, always inviting, always hopeful for the chance to “love the hell out of me.”

This weekend, while editing episode 19 for release, I found myself once again on my back, daring to risk that loving embrace after weeks—okay, a few months—of hiding under the table. It’s a bit ironic: we recorded the story back in late summer or early fall, added the riff in January, and now here we are in late February—a moment of perfect timing for this tender soul. I pray for many of you as well.

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- Joshua Minden