for us.
On this first day of the year, let us wake up into a new day, where we have love all around us to encourage us. Let last night’s nightmare fall away and become today’s glorious dream. Be courageous in God’s new world for you!—d.o.
Pink Slips and Chew Bones
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
—Philemon 1:3
I watched the golden retriever I had fostered for six months ride away with her new “mommy” as she stared at me through the back windshield of that little red Honda. She had come such a long way from the frightened abuse victim placed in my care. Her eyes never left me as the car left for the horizon. There was a chew bone in her mouth. Her tail was wagging. This dog knew she was going to a new home. Yet, somehow, she wanted to let me know she was grateful. She knew the dark place she’d come from and where she was now going, and I was just the spot in between.
Some things are not meant to be forever. They are just meant to get us there. Every friendship, every job, every place we live, is just a bridge to learning something we need in order to become who we are to be. People leave us because their part in our journey is finished. We never complete anything without having a lesson to be learned. Good-byes always leave us with a piece missing, don’t they? Change is always difficult.
If you are saying good-bye to someone, something, or some place, reflect on what you have gained from the time you have spent. Let it be woven into the fabric of who you are becoming. Just remember, nothing is taken without being replaced by more of what you need. Just as I had been a temporary caregiver for that beautiful golden retriever, she now has a permanent place to curl up and call home. Say good-bye with grace and hello with hope, and leave with a lesson. Nothing leaves until it is time to let go. Accepting loss only comes with God’s help and the wisdom of time.—d.o.
You Can’t Judge a Cocker
by Its Spaniel
When they go with their flocks and herds to seek the Lord, they will not find him; he has withdrawn himself from them.
—Hosea 5:6
Outward appearances can sometimes be very deceiving. As a shelter volunteer, I soon learned that the most evil-looking dogs were sometimes the biggest sweethearts. And then, there were the cocker spaniels. They had those beautiful brown eyes. Visions of Lady and the Tramp came to mind as I would reach to pet them.
With one unanticipated sharp growl, I would get bitten. I was not prepared to be bitten by an animal that was cute. This was a breed that had been animated in Disney movies, for goodness’ sake! This misperception happened more than once. The adorable toy breeds would growl and snap with no provocation, while the pit bulls and Dobermans would roll around on the floor with me in play. This is by no means a criticism of any breed, just an observation that outward appearances and public opinion can be wrong.
In ancient times, some Israelites spoke highly of God, while worshiping pagan gods on the side. The Israelites were spiritually hedging their bets, so to speak. Well, it didn’t work with God. And hedging bets didn’t work with me either at the animal shelter. I stopped trusting those sweet, sad eyes until I knew for sure that the animal in front of me was trustworthy. And I was delighted to find cocker spaniels who were.
If we put our faith in gods that can’t be trusted, we can get bitten. But we forget that and often put our faith in careers, money, or material possessions because they look at us with their beautiful brown eyes. Then, when we are least expecting it, they turn and bite us, leaving us wounded and with destroyed spirits. But we have God who loves us always and who knows our hearts.—d.o.
Jack Loves Veronique
Though we stumble, we shall not fall headlong, for the LORD holds us by the hand.
—Psalm 37:24
Our dog Jack fell in love with Veronique the day we brought her home, and she adored him. A full-grown Pyrenees-collie can be as intimidating as a polar bear, with a bark that thunders across the valley, but he was gentle as a lamb with the new collie pup. She jumped and nipped and yapped at Jack playfully, and he would look up at us with a twinkle in his eye that seemed to say, “She’s pesky, but she sure is cute!”
Overnight, it seemed Veronique was tall enough to reach the latch on the front door. One day, we were all at home when a neighbor called to say he had our collie; she had been hit by a car. We didn’t even know she’d gotten out! He drove her to us, and we rushed her to the emergency vet. Her pelvic bone was broken, but it would mend without surgery.
Our neighbor felt bad. I felt bad. Jack felt bad. Our neighbor was a kind man who had seen Jack and Veronique running around, playing as though on a big adventure. They were having such a great time that he was going to let them play before he checked their collars for a number to call. Then a car rounded the bend just as Veronique shot out of the woods. Both neighbor and Jack froze with fright as they watched the inevitable collision.
Jack was beside himself for days, until at last he could see that Veronique was going to be all right. She could barely lift her head, but she managed to give Jack a lick on the nose so he wouldn’t worry. Jack seemed sorry for not taking better care of his girl, for leading her to a dangerous place. And I learned, too, to keep the door locked even though Veronique no longer tries to dash past the threshold before I’ve given the okay.
We make mistakes. And sometimes our mistakes hurt the ones we love. But we don’t have to keep making the same mistakes. God helps us when we stumble, and that’s how we grow in grace!—k.m.
Divine Placement
Truly my soul finds rest in God; my salvation comes from him. Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken.
—Psalm 62:1-2
My dog Winston, a miniature schnauzer, used to wait on the left side of the sofa on his towel while I was at work. I would say good-bye and leave, and he’d hop to his place and wait until I returned. He’d be sitting right there in his spot when I opened the door. He’d perk up as I walked in, and when I gave the word, he’d run to me for hugs and kisses. Now maybe he wasn’t there all day, but I have a mental picture of him waiting patiently and quietly until I returned to give him food, exercise, and love. He trusted that I would return, and he trusted that I would meet all his needs.
Even when other dogs entered our family, that spot on the sofa remained Winston’s. Excitement, visitors, and hyper moments did not move Winston from his place. The other dogs could not get him to budge. I had given him a “place” and that’s where he waited to hear from me.
I’ve had many dogs, but none ever understood the concept of “place” like Winston. He knew if he waited for my word, his rewards would be great. He accepted that waiting in his place was a good thing.
Patience to wait in our “place” given by God is not a common attribute. We are nudged from our place by peer pressure and people who want company in whatever they are doing. We get in a hurry to move or experience instant gratification, when real love is just about to walk through the door.
When we feel the fast-moving stomach-tightening anxiety urging us to be moving instead of waiting, let us just be still. Let us wait. The real voice we wait for is that of our Master. Waiting is not always easy, but
