The baby of the Myers household is our goldendoodle, Evie.

She is an extremely gentle and affectionate dog. She believes herself to be a petite little princess. She is, however, a 90-plus pound mini-horse of a dog.

As big as she is, there is no way to miss her when she walks into a room. Her size alone makes her difficult to ignore, but when she walks, she sort of shuffles her paws, which makes a noise that sounds much like two toddlers in tap-dancing shoes announcing her arrival.

If her size and the sound of her movements didn’t do enough to announce her presence, the competing voices calling for her attention would. My children are constantly competing for Evie’s affection. They feed into her delusions of daintiness by treating her like a little lap dog. It is quite common to hear her name echoing across our living room as my daughter and son try to convince her to come join them where they are sitting.

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If she fails to respond, one of the kids, usually my son, will attempt to manhandle her into his preferred position so he can pet her. My daughter, on the other hand, will try to entice her using dog toys. It is nearly impossible to forget Evie is in the house.

While Evie loves everyone, she is without question my dog. She will periodically make the rounds to greet everyone in the room, but she will ultimately end up by my side or under my feet. Should I have to do anything requiring my full attention for any length of time, Evie will begin to get antsy. She will pace back and forth around me. She will try to work her head up under my hand.

If those actions don’t immediately elicit the desired response, she will sit on the floor beside me and gently yet persistently tap me with her paw. It’s as if she’s saying, “Hey, I’m here. Do you see me? I’m sitting right here. Did you forget me?”

I feed her. I let her in and out as needed. I give her treats on the regular. I pet her early and often. Still, she needs reminders that I still care.

My family and I will often laugh at Evie’s perpetual need to be seen. To be completely honest, though, not only does it not bother me, I quite enjoy her desire to know she is seen and loved. I like it when she taps my hand to let me know she’s there. I have no problem petting her head with a free hand. She’s not a burden to me. She’s my baby.

Sometimes, I wonder if we aren’t reticent to pray and reach out to God because we’re afraid we’re going to bother him. We worry we might wear him out by constantly telling him about what’s going on in our lives.

In Philippians 4:6, Paul writes, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

God is not bothered when we ask for his attention. He desires to ease the anxieties of our hearts as we deal with the struggles and successes of daily life. He is happy to be a peace-producing presence in our lives. He will provide us with peace to help us rise above and overcome the struggles of life.

Be encouraged today. In fact, he wants you to reach out to him. He enjoys the constant contact. Feel free to let him know what’s going on and what you need early and often. He wants to walk with you and ease your anxiety. Know that even when you feel he is distant, he sees you and he loves you.

The Rev. Jeremy Myers is the lead pastor of First Baptist Church in Seymour. Read his blog at jeremysmyers.com. Send comments to [email protected].