'Come on', he gently instructed. 'You can do it'.
The labrador puppy teetered on the edge of a stone step that continued into a staircase leading into a man-made pond. Coaxing the dog with patience, the pup's master-his newly adopted dad-was standing about a half foot out in the body of water on a large stone slab that was hidden from the lab's view just beneath the surface of the water. The puppy toyed with the idea of joining his owner out in the water, the idea bouncing back and forth in his finite canine brain. The water seemed so deep and his owner seemed so far away. Multiple times the dog took a minuscule step forward, seemingly about to jump down from the step on which he was standing and out into the water in which his master was calling him, only to have fear overtake him, resulting in whines that cried out for his owner to either pick him up and hold him or to end the journey of traveling into deeper waters. To simply call it off. To continue their walk on the familiar sidewalk that was completely known and visible to the young dog.
What the pup didn't know is that the owner never left the pup on his own, for even if he jumped into the waters out to where the master was calling him, the owner was always within reach. He would always be there to catch him, never allowing the pup to enter into a situation that would cause him harm or prove to be too much to handle. The owner was always able.
Unforeseen to the pup was this: the act of stepping out in faith could only increase his dependency on the owner and only make the dog stronger in every way.
For even if the pup stumbled on a rock-even if the waters momentarily overtook him-there would still be potential for growth. For what sort of sailor became skilled from simply navigating calm waters?
The owner allowed for growth-though not destruction-because of his love for his adopted pup.
As the dog battled with whether or not to step off of his stable stone step and into the seemingly deep waters of the pond, he realized who it was that was asking him to take the step. The encourager was his adopted owner-His master that had only ever loved, fed, watered, and provided for him. He had never failed the pup. His hand was strong. His voice was kind. His presence was calming.
With a love unexplainable and a bit of faith as small as a mustard seed, fear was driven out as the pup took one flying leap off of the step on which he'd been standing, eyes locked upward and onto those of his owner. For a fleeting moment, he felt the harsh wind whip his ears back. An insect flew into his face threatening his balance, but just as quickly as it'd begun the journey ended and he plopped beside his owner who's hand had guided his landing. Confused, the pup wondered what was beneath his feet.
It was solid ground.
The pup was no longer afraid of standing in the water, that was now quite obviously shallow and not near as deep as it'd first seemed. He now understood that his owner had been standing on a step that only he could see from where he was standing. Stable and protected, the pup was no longer fearful of the water. He maybe even enjoyed it out here.
The wonderment of the experience was set aside, however, when the pup felt a firm but gentle hand ruffing his head, scratching his ears.
Then, a calm, familiar voice: 'Good boy. I knew you could do it'.
