What You See Is Not Always What You Get.

We were in Arkansas one Thanksgiving, and it just happened to fall around my birthday. I had been sick, the timing was right, and I decided it was a good moment to use the sympathy card and press my parents for a memorable gift.

So we went to the mall. And yes, I’m old enough to remember when you could go to a mall and leave with an Izod shirt, a Hickory Farms summer sausage, a cassette tape, and a dog. I loved the 80s.

There in the pet store was the most beautiful Cocker Spaniel I had ever seen. He was butterscotch-colored, eight to ten weeks old, and absolutely perfect to the eye. With enough persistence and whining, that puppy came home with us. I named him Scotch.

Scotch was a purebred AKC Cocker Spaniel, complete with papers and looks to match. We fell in love with him quickly. There were all the joyful puppy moments you would expect, and for a while he lived partly inside and partly outside. Everything about him looked right.

But as Scotch got older, something troubling surfaced. He had a serious personality issue. He was hateful and aggressive toward anyone other than me, and sometimes even toward me. You couldn’t look him in the eyes without risking a bite. What made it worse was how beautiful and friendly he appeared. Everyone wanted to pet him. No one could see what was underneath.

It became a real concern. We had a few close calls, moments that could have ended badly. People trusted what they saw, but they didn’t know his nature.

My sister was dating a young man at the time, a fine fellow. Scotch didn’t like him, and the feeling was mutual. When he pulled into the driveway, he would toss a donut out the window to distract Scotch, then sprint into the house before getting bitten on the back of the leg. Seems like that was around the time when My dad decided to keep Scotch longer. Maybe it was that old belief that dogs exist to protect he had learned by a deaf dog.

One day, Scotch disappeared and never came back. We never found out what happened. And while it was sad, the truth is we didn’t struggle long with the loss. Scotch had become a problem that would have eventually forced a hard decision.

Scotch taught me a lesson I didn’t fully understand until much later in life: what you see is not always what you get.

Scotch had papers, titles, and the outward beauty of a perfect dog. What he lacked was the inner disposition that made him safe, trustworthy, and suitable as a family companion. His appearance hid his true nature.

Jesus warned about this very thing. Speaking of the Pharisees, He said, “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful, but within are full of dead people’s bones and all uncleanness” (Matthew 23:27, ESV).

The Pharisees looked righteous. They appeared holy. But their hearts were far from God. They focused on the outside while ignoring the corruption within.

God made it clear long before this that He is not impressed by appearances. When Samuel was sent to anoint a king from Jesse’s sons, God told him, “For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7, ESV).

This same truth explains why so many missed Jesus. When the world saw Him, they didn’t see royalty. They didn’t see a conquering king. They saw a carpenter’s son from Nazareth. Because they were looking outwardly, they missed the Messiah standing right in front of them.

I realized that I, too, could fall into that same trap. I could look right on the outside, speak the right language, attend the right places, and still have a heart that needed God’s transforming work.

God used a beautiful but broken dog to remind me that true righteousness is an inside job. Faith is not about appearances, titles, or pedigree. It’s about a heart surrendered to God.

Just as Scotch’s beauty could not change his nature, our outward religion cannot change our hearts. Only God can do that work from the inside out