Restraint and Why We Dislike It

What is the feeling you have when you see this little guy?  Pity?  Sadness?

You're probably not feeling relief or contentment.

Here, little Luigi is being "restrained" from running free.  That seems bad, right?  But if we think of him as being restrained from the dangers of running loose, it is a good thing.

Luigi is in the kennel so he's cared for, not so he can run the streets while his owner is gone.

The dictionary defines restraint as "a way of limiting, controlling, or stopping something."  Boo!  Who wants to be limited, controlled or stopped?  Not us!  We want to do what we wish, listen to our feelings, follow our bliss.

The dictionary also defines restraint as "the act of holding something back."  Hmmm.....

If we believe in an All-Poweful God, that means God can intervene in areas that are dangerous.  Yet tragedies happen.  But what if God is restraining His own behavior in order that we experience something deeper.  Maybe our physical and mental well being will be threatened, harmed or damaged, but our spiritual health will be enhanced.  Maybe that cage we think we're in is for our own safety.

Maybe things aren't always as they appear. 

When dogs come to the kennel, I give them the benefit of the doubt that they are a Good Dog until proven otherwise.  While that's not always as easy with people, it's a good rule of thumb.  While I've had my share of unwelcome events in my life, I can say that ultimately they led to an uncomfortable and even painful stretching of my faith.  What we have on earth isn't forever, but what we can't see is. 

If we believe in an All-Loving God, we can imagine that Jesus longs to swoop in and spare us pain.  He shows restraint when something bigger is at work.  If God holds something back from us now, it is only because it is for Our Good and His Glory.  It isn't always fun and it isn't always easy.  But, it's always good.

Misplaced Devotion

Last Saturday, a friend of mine noticed a dog at the end of her rather long driveway, hanging out by the road.  The dog won't let her get near him.  She's given him food and water, contacted the local animal control, and still the dog stays at the end of the driveway.  It is classic dumped-dog behavior.  The dog is foregoing the minimal amount of food in favor of waiting for his owner to return. 

Five days he's waiting.  Five days he's ignoring someone who wants very much to care for the dog and get him to safety.  But he can't stop focusing on what is no more despite a much rosier future.

Aren't we often like this?  Personally, I'm sort of a master at staring at the door slammed shut in my face rather than the window open right by me, from where fragrant winds blow (or today, hurricane force gales). 

Too often we approach God with a clenched fist, unable to open our empty palm and let the God of love fill it with the good gifts He longs to share.

The dog doesn't know what's coming, which is a chilling cold front.  My friend does, and is eager to get him to safety.  But the dog refuses, longing for the love of the owner that undoubtedly has rejected him forever.

It's painful to imagine this dog's misplaced devotion.  It's sad what the dog is missing from what my wonderful friend has in store for him, which is Hope and a Future.  Instead, the dog paces, runs away, and looks at the empty, dirty road.  He has settled for a poor definition of love.

Sometimes we think our idea of what God is like is better than who God really is.  We have an idea of what our good gifts should be, and how our future should look.  But we don't know the Cold Front is coming and our God does.  We don't know that we're looking at a lonely and dirty road, when a street of gold could be our destiny.

Today I hope the dog chooses safety.  Today I hope I remember to unclench my fist.  Today I hope you choose to turn to the One who longs to hold you in the palm of His hand.

May none of us settle for a poor definition of love.

Being Left Behind, and Why That's Just FIne

Jay was the lone wolf in the kennel for more than two weeks.

As the other dogs went home over the holidays, Jay was left behind.  Yet, the sudden disappearance of all the other dogs didn't seem to bother him.  He ate fine, went for his walks, played, no distress.

Perhaps it is because Jay knows full well he is loved.

A friend once told me, "You just need to find your tribe."  At first I wasn't sure what that meant.  It seemed odd, and maybe included rejection.  Then I realized that it was a great kindness.  The most caring thing you can do for someone is point them in the right direction when they are headed in the wrong one.

I had to tell Jay's owner he was heading in the wrong direction.  It wasn't an easy conversation.  But both and Jay may benefit from a correction.

I certainly benefitted from a careful word (or a hit over the head as I'm often too dense to "get it.") that put me on a better path.  I didn't like it at first.  I even resented it and suspected the Corrector had got it all wrong.  The Corrector's idea was terrible while mine was really good.

Except mine wasn't really good after all.  It was fruitless and frustrating (and other "fru" sounds).  While I was feeling left behind, I found a new place filled with new people and new activities, directed there by the kindness of The Corrector.

I'm not really sure what's going to happen with Jay and his owner.  I know I did what I could and wish it had gone better.  But you can't make a person see a clear picture when they are so busy looking at that murky one that has clouded their vision for decades.

I pray I can have my vision unclouded, and stay on a clear path.  To do so, I need to remember that I am greatly loved.  And so are you.

Evidence of Cat Dancing

For years when Dooley was young and the pond was frozen, I'd catch him chasing leaves (or imaginary fragments of fascination) over the ice.  He seemed to take great joy in sliding, pouncing, and creeping up on his prey on this unusual surface.  But like so many cats, if he suspected anyone witnessing him frolicking with such abandon, he stopped and acted like he would never participate in such undignified behavior.  Sort of like Fonzie.

But Dooley is older now and he doesn't go outside much.  Yet Tuesday I noticed these:

A definite pattern led up these random paw prints on the ice.

Perhaps Dooley is out there dancing when no one is looking.

It's easy to feel jaded about Christmas.  Maybe we think if we believe such an unlikely story of a virgin giving birth to the Messiah of the world, we'll be seen as undignified, incapable of doing something so very ordinary and silly.

But who would make up such an outlandish tail?

Doesn't our heart yearn to have wonder and mystery?  To think maybe there is in fact a God so very powerful that He does miracles?  A God so loving that he would sacrifice his own son for a bunch of ungrateful people?

Love can make us dance, just as wonder tickles our toes with chilling sensations.

So go ahead.  Dance.  No one is watching.

And wonders of His Love..

And wonders of His Love...

And wonders, wonders, of His Love.

Racing Out on Uneven Ground

Before I could stop her, Tilly raced out to chase the birds resting in the field.

Recently, the farmers tilled up the soil, and it was extremely lumpy.  However, Tilly, being a dog who doesn't exactly evaluate conditions, assumed the ground was as even as it's always been and set out at high speeds to pursue the birds.

While Tilly is generally terrible at listening to me, the one command she obeys well is the "Come" command.  I yelled and she stopped and returned, but not before knocking her doggie elbows and came back with a limp.  Fortunately, there was no lasting damage.  I knew this immediately because Tilly is a wimp and very vocal about any pain she has.  And since she wasn't wimpering and being dramatic, I knew she'd live to annoy me another day.

How many times do we pursue something at a dead run, not considering the terrain and consequences?  I don't know about you, but occasionally I toss my normal level headed thinking in order to pursue some "flights of fancy" (as a friend put it).  Inevitably, this results in a figurative twisted ankle and pain.  And yet I don't seem to recall this the next time opportunity arises.  I set out on uneven ground.

Unlike me, an almighty Savior knows about our temptations and trials.  He knows what it is like to be weak.  While Jesus withstood the most unfair situations and the most alluring temptations, He remembered what His Father was about, kept His mission in mind, and thought of Others (that's us, y'all) before Himself.

We may be weak, but we are understood by our Creator.  He evens out the tough trials, even when we've raced out in front of Him.

There is Thanksgiving.  There is Christmas, the Joy of New Life. 

May it be yours, as much as it is mine.

She Drives Me Crazy

(Cue the Fine Young Cannibals Tune)

Of course, this refers to the "I'm-eight-years-old-but-still-act-like-I'm-six-months-old" Matilda.

Happily, I do not know which boy-band character that toy is supposed to resemble.  And of course Tilly doesn't care whose face she chews.  This applies to humans as well as stuffed animals.

Despite a basic obedience class and eight years of consistent rule reinforcement, Tilly knows when she can ignore very specific instructions.  She's smart enough to know the expectation, and savvy enough to know that if I'm not hovering over her and following her around, she can get away with devouring that which is not food.  So what if it may result in parasites, not to mention toxic fumes, she wants what she wants.

I no longer need coffee because every day begins with my calm tone quickly turning to shrill and barely contained shrieks and hisses at Tilly provide enough adrenalin to wake me up.  It's exhausting and it doesn't exactly do much for creating and maintaining a warm bond.

"Why do you insist on doing what you know you should not do?" I ask, only to hear the same question echo back to me.  Hasn't God asked me the same thing?  Why DO I choose to follow my own way, specifically ignoring that which may harm me, because it's not what I want? 

Unlike me, God, having that whole long-suffering thing, doesn't lose his temper, yell shrill comments and come unglued (ahem).  He knows we are weak.  Hopefully, we realize he is forgiving.  Hopefully, we realize that real change only comes from relying on Him to create the internal work we can't really do ourselves.

While I, at times (many), can't understand why Tilly willfully disobeys me, it doesn't take much for me to realize I am guilty of the same tendencies.  It's not one of the things I'd like to have in common with my dog.  I'd rather it be charm and enthusiasm, though she has very little of the first and too much of the second.

The good news is there is hope for Tilly, like a shorter leash and supervision.  There's hope for me too, like keeping myself more closely tethered to God.  There's hope for you too.

What Dazzles Us

Foster was an awesome dog.  If there ever was a dog who could dazzle you with attitude and fun, he was The Dog.

What dazzles you? 

When I look at social media, nearly every post is a result of someone being dazzled, whether it be by an amazingly decadent food recipe, a household hint, the stunning beauty of perfect children, and even the politicians who promise and lie.

We are dazzled.

What happens when we are so taken with a person, a place, a food, a new phone, that we are blinded to everything else?  Generally, it results in a myopic view of our family/church/restaurant/music group/cat/dog/love interest/book/exercise class/political figure/political party/civic organization...

You get the idea.

Temporary blindness to reality is not always terrible.  Reality is sometimes terrible, and a small break and diversion may help.  And not everything that dazzles us is bad. However, our reaction, our "bedazzledness", endangers our good sense and level reaction.

Yet what is worthy of our awe and admiration is the Glory of God.  Often the things that grab our attention hold some element that is a tiny reflection of God's glory, whether it be power, beauty, peace, etc.  But as a Perfect God, His creation is flawless.  His Truth is pure.  His Sovereign Goodness shines so bright that all else is in shadow.  Our reaction rarely will get us in trouble because it often comes from the purest part of ourselves as we experience Perfection.

Being dazzled, to me, smacks a bit of being fooled.  That doesn't happen when God's Glory infiltrates our being, our friends, and even the view out the front door.  There is no falsehood there.  Truth is Truth and Truth is beauty, and more than anything, it is worthy of our bent knees.