Correction

I’ve got five dogs right now. Four German Shorthaired Pointers and one English Pointer. And two of those are pups out of Gunner, which means they didn’t just inherit his good looks… they came with a little extra “crazy package” baked in from the factory.

That reality has walked me straight into a season of humility. I’ve had to read more, ask more, listen more, and sit down with folks who’ve forgotten more about dog training than I’ve ever known. One truth showed up early and loud: wishing a dog would behave better is not a training method. If it was, I’d have a kennel full of champions and a lot more free time. The same applies to people, wishing a person would behave better is not a teaching style.

Now before anybody gets sideways, I know dogs aren’t people. We’re created in the image of God. We’ve got eternal souls. A bird dog ain’t sitting around contemplating Romans 8. But sometimes a comparison helps shine a light where we need it.

Because we’re living in a world where discipline has about the same reputation as a pineapple on a pizza, it just don't belong.

I grew up in a different era. I was probably the only fourth grader who knew exactly what a Nine West flat was. (That was a brand and style of women’s shoes) Not because I was into fashion, but because I had seen that shoe come off my mom’s foot faster than a quick-draw cowboy. I’m talking about a move so smooth you thought you were in the matrix. Never abuse just enough correction to remind you that foolishness has consequences.

And somewhere along the way, I heard a statement about training dogs that stuck with me. It’ll preach if you let it.

When you’re training, you ask three questions:

Does the dog know what I’m asking?

Can the dog do what I’m asking?

Or is the dog choosing not to?

That’ll straighten a lot of things out in a hurry.

If the dog doesn’t know, you teach.

If the dog can’t, you help.

If the dog knows and can but won’t… well, now we’ve entered the land of correction.

Because you can’t reinforce what hasn’t been taught and you can’t force what can’t be done.

Sometimes training looks like an e-collar. Before anybody imagines sparks flying and hair standing up, a properly used e-collar is just a check cord that don’t run out. Most of the time, my dogs respond to a tone or a slight nick. Just a reminder like, “Hey buddy… you sure about that decision?”

But every now and then, I know that dog knows exactly what I’m asking, knows how to do it, and is just flat ignoring me. That’s when correction comes.

And here’s the key. That correction has made every one of my dogs better. Better in the field, in the house, and better in the kennel. They don’t fear me, they trust me.

Because discipline works in two directions. There’s the kind that comes from people… parents, teachers, employers like spankings, groundings, write-ups, firings, consequences. Then there’s the kind that comes from God.

So the kind that comes from God. The Bible says in Romans 8:1 (ESV), “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” That means if you belong to Him, He’s not out to crush you.

But don’t miss this. Hebrews 12:6 says, “For the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives.” That means if you belong to Him… He’s not going to leave you alone either. Correction is not condemnation, discipline is not rejection and chastisement is not cruelty.

It’s love.

Most of the time, God starts with a tone. A quiet nudge or a little conviction that taps you on the shoulder and says, “You know better than that.” But when we ignore the tone… when we act like we didn’t hear Him… when we decide our way is better…correction comes. Not to destroy us, but to bring us back. Hebrews 12:10 says He disciplines us “for our good, that we may share his holiness.” Verse 11 reminds us, “For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness.”

Now let me pull a chair up a little closer on this thought, because this is where folks tend to get real quiet real quick. So let’s touch on that physical side. Before anybody starts shifting in their seat, let’s just go where the Bible goes and stay there. Because leadership comes with responsibility.

If you’re a parent, a boss, a teacher, a pastor, or anybody God has placed people under… you don’t just get the title, you get the weight that comes with it.

The Bible says in Proverbs 13:24 (ESV),

“Whoever spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is diligent to discipline him.” Now that verse doesn’t get printed on coffee mugs much anymore. You’ll hear folks say, “Well, I just love too much to discipline.” But according to Scripture, that’s not love. That’s discomfort avoidance dressed up like compassion. Because real love is not about keeping someone comfortable. Real love is positioning someone to become what God has called them to be and sometimes that path runs straight through correction.

Proverbs 22:15 (ESV) says, “Folly is bound up in the heart of a child, but the rod of discipline drives it far from him.”

That means foolishness doesn’t have to be taught. It comes factory installed just like Gunner pups. You don’t sit a kid down and say, “Now here’s how you disobey.” They figure that out on their own just fine. Discipline is what lovingly interrupts that foolishness before it grows legs and a life of its own and wrecks their life,

and this doesn’t just stop at parenting.

A boss who refuses to correct employees because they don’t want confrontation doesn’t create peace… they create frustration for everybody else who is doing right.

A teacher who just passes a student along without making them learn didn’t help that child… they handicapped them.

A pastor who doesn’t preach on what the Bible says about sin. They might grow a church, but they are growing Hotel Hell as well.

That’s not kindness. That’s neglect with a smile on its face.

Hebrews 12:11 (ESV) reminds us,

“For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.”

Notice that word trained. Not ignored. Not excused. Not avoided. Trained and training requires discomfort.

Even God, the perfect Father, doesn’t say, “I love you too much to correct you.”

He says, “I love you too much to leave you the way you are.”

That’s the difference. So whether it’s a child, an employee, a student, or even ourselves… avoiding discipline isn’t mercy. It’s stepping back from responsibility.

If we truly love someone, we will be willing to step into that uncomfortable space, not to harm them, not to vent frustration, but to guide them toward what is right.

Because love doesn’t just pat you on the back. Sometimes love grabs you by the shoulders, slaps a Nine West flat on your keister and points you in the right direction, and says, “We’re not going that way anymore.”