4 Rejoice in the Lord always.
...I will say it again: Rejoice!
5 Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.
6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.
7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
8 Finally,
brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is
right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if
anything is excellent or praiseworthy —think about such things.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Look at the dogs. It's Simple.
Owning a dog can teach a child a lot of things. For me, my Labrador Retriever, Sandy, has given me a new perspective.
Before we had Sandy, my family owned two dogs, four cats, and a rabbit (I think we were over the city limit). Needless to say, mom wasn't very thrilled when dad came home from work with yet another stray animal he had found. At the time, Sandy was a yellow ball of puppy-fun. She especially liked the cereal shelf and the cat's food. When she got older (and bigger), Sandy discovered she liked the trashcan, too. Mom wasn't thrilled about this, either; but she has since grown to love Sandy anyway.
As the youngest in my family, Sandy came into my life at just the right time. Older siblings were moving on, right as life's larger problems were fading into view; Sandy was the simple, steady friend I needed. As her owner, I learned how to train her to be a (pretty) well-behaved pooch, and I came to understand how something as straight-forward as a dog could be such a wonderful companion. Now, about three years after first meeting her, I look back and see what a great friend she has been, and the unique perspective I have gained from knowing her.
Every time I greet Sandy and she gives me that unfailing, doggy-smile, I feel a special warmth, joy, and pride. I get this same feeling of love when I give her a command and she eagerly obeys. Even when she disobeys and I reprimand her, I am proud when she strives to please me. To her I am her master, and she loves me for it.
One day I had that classic “Ah-Ha!” moment when mulling over my relationship with Sandy and my relationship with God. Yes, He placed us on earth with the instruction to “lord over the animals.” With Sandy, I was doing just that. My thoughts took a step further when I considered how God “lords” over us, His children and His “flock.” Just as God loves us, I love my dog, my companion, and my friend. To me, my relationship with Sandy is a simplified reflection of my walk with God.
Shouldn't I eagerly greet my Lord when He is near? Shouldn't I eagerly do as He commands, just to please Him? Shouldn't I eagerly strive to correct myself when I am wrong, because He is my God and master, and because we are told to love Him above all others? Sandy does not “eagerly” do these things because she feels obligated to, but because she truly learned to trust me and love me through knowing who I am. Through knowing and walking with Him, we can learn to trust and love Him, too.
Granted, at times when I step out of the room Sandy indulges in the trashcan, even though I have told her repeatedly not to, even though she actively knows that when I return I won't be happy. I've witnessed her do this, and it's kind of funny how, while pulling napkins, coffee beans, and empty bottles from the trash her body language clearly shows “guilt.” She can't stand it. It struck me one day: don't we do this, too? We can't always see God, or recognize his presence; in those moments temptation often strikes. When I re-enter the room where Sandy is shamefully gorging herself, her reaction immediately says, “I'm so sorry! (Thank goodness you're here! I couldn't help but eat the trash when you weren't around. I couldn't resist on my own!)”
As her master I discipline her, but only enough to remind her of the consequences to bad behavior and to maintain that level of authority. Like children, dogs thrive with clear and just boundaries, and lurking consequences. They like the structure and security that comes with order.
Sandy loves me very much, and it shows in her actions. Throughout the day she follows me around the house, simply wanting to be with me. At night when she's drifting off to sleep I witness her trust in me; she nods off as I stroke her fur, knowing she is safe and under my care. Sandy is my dog and friend; I love her and she loves me. Like I do with many of my friends, I try and model myself after the other. For me, Sandy's eager and unfailing love is a simple reminder of how my relationship with God could be. He loves me, and I love Him. It's that simple.
Before we had Sandy, my family owned two dogs, four cats, and a rabbit (I think we were over the city limit). Needless to say, mom wasn't very thrilled when dad came home from work with yet another stray animal he had found. At the time, Sandy was a yellow ball of puppy-fun. She especially liked the cereal shelf and the cat's food. When she got older (and bigger), Sandy discovered she liked the trashcan, too. Mom wasn't thrilled about this, either; but she has since grown to love Sandy anyway.
As the youngest in my family, Sandy came into my life at just the right time. Older siblings were moving on, right as life's larger problems were fading into view; Sandy was the simple, steady friend I needed. As her owner, I learned how to train her to be a (pretty) well-behaved pooch, and I came to understand how something as straight-forward as a dog could be such a wonderful companion. Now, about three years after first meeting her, I look back and see what a great friend she has been, and the unique perspective I have gained from knowing her.
Every time I greet Sandy and she gives me that unfailing, doggy-smile, I feel a special warmth, joy, and pride. I get this same feeling of love when I give her a command and she eagerly obeys. Even when she disobeys and I reprimand her, I am proud when she strives to please me. To her I am her master, and she loves me for it.
One day I had that classic “Ah-Ha!” moment when mulling over my relationship with Sandy and my relationship with God. Yes, He placed us on earth with the instruction to “lord over the animals.” With Sandy, I was doing just that. My thoughts took a step further when I considered how God “lords” over us, His children and His “flock.” Just as God loves us, I love my dog, my companion, and my friend. To me, my relationship with Sandy is a simplified reflection of my walk with God.
Shouldn't I eagerly greet my Lord when He is near? Shouldn't I eagerly do as He commands, just to please Him? Shouldn't I eagerly strive to correct myself when I am wrong, because He is my God and master, and because we are told to love Him above all others? Sandy does not “eagerly” do these things because she feels obligated to, but because she truly learned to trust me and love me through knowing who I am. Through knowing and walking with Him, we can learn to trust and love Him, too.
Granted, at times when I step out of the room Sandy indulges in the trashcan, even though I have told her repeatedly not to, even though she actively knows that when I return I won't be happy. I've witnessed her do this, and it's kind of funny how, while pulling napkins, coffee beans, and empty bottles from the trash her body language clearly shows “guilt.” She can't stand it. It struck me one day: don't we do this, too? We can't always see God, or recognize his presence; in those moments temptation often strikes. When I re-enter the room where Sandy is shamefully gorging herself, her reaction immediately says, “I'm so sorry! (Thank goodness you're here! I couldn't help but eat the trash when you weren't around. I couldn't resist on my own!)”
As her master I discipline her, but only enough to remind her of the consequences to bad behavior and to maintain that level of authority. Like children, dogs thrive with clear and just boundaries, and lurking consequences. They like the structure and security that comes with order.
Sandy loves me very much, and it shows in her actions. Throughout the day she follows me around the house, simply wanting to be with me. At night when she's drifting off to sleep I witness her trust in me; she nods off as I stroke her fur, knowing she is safe and under my care. Sandy is my dog and friend; I love her and she loves me. Like I do with many of my friends, I try and model myself after the other. For me, Sandy's eager and unfailing love is a simple reminder of how my relationship with God could be. He loves me, and I love Him. It's that simple.
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