“HE’S GONE!” Cliff shouted.
Time stood still.
All eyes scanned frantically.
Our dog, Courage, was missing.
“When was the last time you saw him?” Cliff asked, breathless after running around the compound.
“At the farm,” I said.
Every morning, we’d walk Courage past coffee bushes, watch him chase dikdiks (tiny wild deer), and dash through trees.
But now—he was gone.
“COURAGE!” All four of us yelled.
Nothing. No wag of his tail. No familiar face.
“It must be a broken fence,” I muttered, mind racing.
If he’d been gone for hours, how would he ever find his way back?
“OH, COURAGE!” my 6-year-old wailed, throwing her head back dramatically.
Tears welled in my 8-year-old’s eyes.
After all, Courage slept between them every night, guarding them.
I imagined him wandering out in the wild, like thousands of strays here, fending for himself.
His disappearance would devastate us all.
“STAY PUT!” Cliff cried out, rushing out the gate. “I’M GOING TO FIND HIM!”
“On foot? Not by car?” I shouted back.
“WE’RE COMING WITH YOU!” our girls screamed.
“NO! STAY PUT!” Cliff yelled again, mind racing, feet ready to run—
“SHHH! I HEAR SOMETHING!” my 6-year-old interrupted.
“DADDY, DID YOU TAKE COURAGE OUT OF THE CAR AFTER OUR FARM WALK?”
“OF COURSE I DID!” Cliff frowned. “Now please let me leave before it’s too—”
“I THINK IT’S COURAGE,” she whispered.
“He’s tapping inside the car.”
“WHAT?”
We froze.
Then—
we burst out laughing and crying all at once.
We opened the car door, and Courage, excitement unleashed, leapt out like a freed unicorn, licking us all silly.
“WELCOME HOME!” we cried.
“To the home you never left.”
“DAAAADEEEEE!” our girls folded their arms with mock rage.
It made me wonder—
how often we panic, only to find what we love was waiting quietly for us all along.
And perhaps, how often God smiles at our frantic searching—
because He knows what we need has already been found. 🐾✨
Welcome home, Courage—
to the home you never left.💛🥹✨
