All Who Wander

I was a mere minute from arriving at home, but a dog wandering along the road changed everything. I heard a sickening thump. Totally shaken up, I got out of the car to find that I’d struck a beautiful German shepherd.

The veterinary assistant who stopped to help assessed the howling, bleeding animal. “It’s real bad,” he said. “I’m sure they’ll have to put her down.” The two of us eased the dog onto a rug and lifted her into my backseat. When I arrived at the animal ER, they performed some first aid, but the verdict was the same. No chance of survival.

I knelt in the precious baby’s cage and told her how sorry I was. “God loves you like you’re the only dog in world,” I promised. The entire staff followed suit, their eyes brimming with tears.

Next morning, the vet telephoned with astonishing news. They’d only tried to keep the dog comfortable, but there’d been a miracle. She was fine and ready to go home. When I picked the shepherd up, the vet showed me the engraved silver tag attached to her collar: All who wander are not lost.

We’d all needed a touch from God that night—me, the wandering dog and all of her caregivers. The Father of us all had ordered every one of our steps.