… as the sky soars high above earth, so the way I work surpasses the way you work, and the way I think is beyond the way you think.—Isaiah 55:9 (MSG)

I live in a neighborhood of Milwaukee that has tree-lined streets and is nicely wedged between a bike path on one side and Lake Michigan on the other.

I was walking my dog, Max, the other day when I looked over and saw a neighbor gesticulating from behind his living room window. He was also tapping loudly on the glass. Waving his arms in the air, my neighbor—whose name I don’t even know—was opening and closing his mouth as if to scream something, but I couldn’t hear him. I paused. Again, he pointed, and this time I could tell that he was pointing behind me.

So I turned around. And I suddenly saw that, not even twenty feet behind me, on the sidewalk, stood a coyote. It didn’t flinch. It just looked right back at me.

Then Max turned around, and when Max saw his distant but much scarier cousin, he uttered a growl like one I’d never heard before. It was a guttural AWRRRR that sent the coyote running in the other direction. We stood and watched it turn the next corner and disappear into an alley.

I don’t know what to make of the coyote yet, except I’m told they are becoming common in cities across the United States. Perhaps it was a lesson in paying attention. Even everyday routines, like walking my dog, should not become mindless habits.

Today, I am appreciating my surroundings more, both while walking Max and while walking alone. I’m looking and listening. I’m paying attention. You should, too, before God uses a coyote to shake you awake.

—