What Our Dogs Can Teach Us

 We live in a dog-friendly neighborhood.  Everyday, weather permitting, I see people walking their dogs. Men and women, old and young, couples pushing strollers, teenagers, some riding a bike with their dog on a leash.  Once I met a woman walking her cats. She had three of them on leashes which she periodically paused to untangle. There aren’t many “cat-walkers.”

 After years of feeding, bathing, picking up poop and emptying litter boxes for the dogs and cats that belonged to the family, our kids grew up and left home. The house was quiet. Even the pets were gone. I decided I wanted my own dog, just for me. It took several months and many promises to my wife that I would do all the feeding, bathing and poop picking up, but my wife finally agreed.  We adopted Buddy, a tri-color Corgi.  

 Buddy isn’t with us anymore. After 14 years he lived out his Corgi-life.  But the memories and the lessons he taught me remain. Here are a few things I learned from my dog, Buddy.

 Buddy trusted me.  Whenever I got in my truck he jumped in and took his place, ready to go.  He didn’t know where we were going or what we were going to do. But he believed that if I was driving it was okay.  I need to be more like that with God.  I always want to know where we are going, when we are going to get there and what we are going to do once we arrive.  I need to jump in the truck with God and give him control of my life.

 Buddy wanted to be with me.  He didn’t care if he was at the lake running, splashing and rolling in the mud, sitting in a chair next to me on the patio or in my study lying at my feet while I wrote.  He just wanted to be where I was.   I need to spend time with God.  What made the early disciples different was the fact they had been with Jesus (Acts 4:13).

 Buddy followed me.  He even followed me from room to room in the house. Whenever we went for walks on an empty beach, I let him off his leash and he ran free.  But he kept an eye on me.  He developed a radius of his own, about thirty yards from wherever I was.  Within that radius he felt comfortable sniffing washed up driftwood and marking sand dunes.  Occasionally he got out of eyesight. But, when I called his name he came running. Not real fast, but as fast as he could. After all he was a Corgi.    It reminds me of what Jesus said to His disciples, “Come, follow me!”  “My sheep know my voice.” 

 Buddy waited for me. When I was writing, he rested his head on his paws, kept one eye on me and waited.  If we were walking and I stopped, he sat down with his tongue hanging out and waited.  If I went to the store when it was cool, he waited in my truck until I returned.  Buddy never complained about waiting on me.  He never got in a hurry.  I should be more like that with respect to God and those I love.

 Buddy has his own book, Buddy the Floppy Ear Corgi, on Amazon that tells how he was rescued off the streets and how he learned to love himself and others just the way God made them.  Free eBook Aug 29-Sept.2.

Tragedy in Paradise

 We are entering the second week since wildfires swept through Lahaina on Maui.  The painful reports from Maui continue.  The death toll stands at 114. Children, parents, families, tourists, trapped in an inferno at a least suspected place in a least suspected moment.

 Like many we have been to Maui and visited Lahaina.  We have treasured memories of the “aloha” and “mahalo” island, palm trees swaying in a gentle breeze, waves cresting upon the shore, luaus on the beach at sunset.  It doesn’t take long to travel the island, including the Haleakala Crater and the road to Hana where we found Charles Lindbergh’s remote grave overlooking the ocean.

 This tragedy strikes an especially painful chord.  How could this happen in such an idyllic place?  The deadliest wildfire  in the U.S in more than 100 years.  

 This week tropical storm Hillary lashed southern California with high winds, mud slides and flooding.  Like Maui, we have been there. We visited San Diego six months ago, relaxing at Mission Beach, strolling through Balboa Park, listening to the street musicians, shopping and dining at Embarcardero.

 My wife grew up on the coast of Texas, at Freeport. When she was 12, Hurricane Carla struck her home on September 11, 1961. Winds reached 173 mph.  The storm was so intense the weather Bureau retired the name “Carla,” never to be used again for an Atlantic hurricane.   Her family fled to east Texas for safety.  When they returned, they drove through miles of devastation with bloated cows lying in the fields. Their home was flooded with 3 feet of saltwater. They had to rebuild and start over.

 The deadliest natural disaster in U.S. history remains the Galveston storm of 1900.  An unexpected hurricane struck the island on September 8 and left more than 6,000 dead in its wake.

 Jesus was clear that disasters, both natural and manmade,  would continue on this earth (Luke 21).  He was also clear that these tragic events would affect the just and the unjust, the good and the evil, (Luke 13:1-5).  So how are we to respond?

 When his disciples encountered a man blind from his birth, they asked Jesus, “Who sinned, this man or his parents that he was born blind?  Jesus responded, ‘It was not that this man sinned, nor his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.” (John 9:1-3).  Jesus then proceeded to heal the man who was blind.

 This gives us a clue about our response when others suffer inexplicable disease and disaster. We must enter into their grief, share their sorrow, pray for them and do whatever we can to help. Most of us can give. There are numerous charities.  We should choose one we trust and give what we can. Every little bit helps those who lose everything when disaster strikes.

 We are to place our trust in the One who overcomes every adversity and gives to us life eternal. We must be like the man in Jesus’ parable who built his house upon the rock. ““Therefore, everyone who hears these words of Mine, and acts on them, will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell and the floods came, and the winds blew and slammed against that house; and yet it did not fall, for it had been founded on the rock,” (Matthew 7:24-25).

Back To School

 Last week we kept our grandchildren, ages 12, 10 and 6.  Their parents had taken them shopping for school supplies the day before.  It might as well have been Christmas! They were elated to show us all the new supplies for school: pencils, pens, notebooks, dividers, glue, backpacks and new shoes!  White Nikes for the girls, orange Under Armor shoes for our 6-year-old grandson.  He insisted they were superhero, super-fast shoes.  We gathered at the living room picture window and watched him demonstrate, sprinting across the front lawn, an orange streak against a grass-green background!

 It was fun to listen to them talk about all the things they are looking forward to after a long hot summer, their new teachers, schedules and friends who would share the same class.  The same scene is unfolding in families all across our country. 

 I thought of the many children whose parents are short on funds, who are struggling to pay rent, to put gas in the car and food on the table.  I thought of children who will show up on that first day with worn hand-me-down shoes.  So, we went shopping for school supplies, especially nicer new shoes, which we dropped off at a local charity for distribution.  It wasn’t much. Hopefully it meant something to one or more children.  If we all do a little, it can help a lot.

 When my wife was a child, she spent days organizing her supplies anticipating the first day back at her desk.  When she became a kindergarten teacher, she faced the greater challenge of managing preschool children armed with crayons and markers in a room with freshly painted walls.

 It will soon be time to put away the lazy days of sleeping late, TV, video games, camp and vacations.  Kids will wake before sunrise and wait for the bus.  Going back to school is the rhythm of life, as surely as the first crisp scent of fall and the turning of green leaves to gold.  We will soon wake up to the early morning echo of school bands, coaches’ whistles, and the smack of shoulder pads.  

 Jesus’ invitation to follow Him is an invitation to each of us to go “back to school” with all the child-like enthusiasm and wonder of children skipping expectantly across the school yard.   That is the meaning of the word, disciple.  He is the Master Teacher.

 No person ever lived who was as wise as Jesus.  Jesus concludes the Sermon on the Mount by telling the story of two men who built houses, one on the sand and one on rock.  When the storm came, the house on the sand crumbled and the house built on rock survived.  “Everyone who hears these words of mine and acts on them,” Jesus said, “may be compared to the wise man who built his house upon the rock.”

 We all need to go to school.  We all have something to learn.

Consider the Ant

 The ants are back!  We have kept them at bay inside the house, but outside, that is a different matter.  A single dropped crumb on the patio and the next morning a stream of ants appear, hundreds of them in a neatly organized operation to dismantle the discarded food and store it in bits and bites for later use. 

 How do they do this?  Do the wandering scout-ants have cell phones?  When they make a discovery do they place a call back to home base and say, “Send the troops.  We have food!”  Who organizes the operation?  Who tells these worker ants to answer the call, and who plots the shortest and least obstructed route to the treasure? 

 If they were humans, the searchers who discovered the food supply would immediately stake a claim, lay title to it and horde it so that they could be wealthier than all the other ants.   They would let the weaker ants in the colony starve.  And, they would probably spend most of their time in “ant court” defending the right to their possessions.  “Ant lawyers” would probably claim the greatest portion of the wealth. Maybe they would find an Oppenheimer ant to invent a bomb so they could destroy other ant colonies.

 Why can’t we learn from these little creatures?  According to the United Nations “the world is in the midst of a global food crisis ... the largest in recent history.”  345 million people are facing severe hunger. 32 countries are in conflict including wars, civil wars, drug wars, ethnic violence, and organized crime.

 I have to admit this convicts and alarms me.  I need to be more like the little critters that invade my patio.  I need to sound the alarm, send out the signal, marshal others and join them in distributing food and resources to those who need it.  But how do we do this?  How do we know that our gifts get to the people and places where they are needed?  There is so much graft and corruption in the world that charitable gifts are often routed into the pockets of the greedy. 

 I guess the best thing is to be alert to local opportunities that can be trusted, churches and local charities that are accountable. Check out the records and reputation of national and international charities.  We should always be generous to neighbors and those we encounter who are in need. The point, I guess, is to choose some way to help.  If all of us gave more generously we could make a difference, like the ant.

 Proverbs says, “Go to the ant … consider its ways and be wise!  It has no commander, no overseer or ruler, yet it stores its provisions in summer and gathers its food at harvest” (Prov. 6:6-8).  John the forerunner, described what we should do if we really want to respond in faith to the Messiah.  He said, “Anyone who has two shirts should share with the one who has none, and anyone who has food should do the same” (Luke 3:11).

The Father's Voice

 This year our 6-year-old grandson played T-ball for the first time.  It is a different game. They are just learning the rudiments. The little guys and girls swing at the ball as many times as necessary until they hit the ball . There are no strikes. There are no outs. After hitting the ball they run to first, then second, third and home. The players are positioned and taught to remain ready.  Catch the ball, if you can, throw it as best you can.  Sometimes they fight over the ball and hurl it toward a base, any base.  The runners are never called out. We cheer them on. Parents, grandparents, even siblings, as if they were scoring a walk off home run. And they beam with pride.

 They will soon graduate to Little League which is a bit more challenging. Strikes are called. Outs are made.  The pressure is on.  Every year a similar scenario plays itself out.  A 10-year-old boy steps to the plate in the final inning.  He must score if the team is to win. Everyone knows he cannot hit. The coach whispers into his ear, “Don’t swing. The pitcher is wild. You will get a walk.” He does exactly what the coach says.  The bat rests firmly on his shoulder and, after four balls, he is down on first. A wild pitch and he is down to second.

 Second base is unfamiliar territory. He is surrounded by the enemy.  The next batter lofts a shallow fly to right field. He starts for third, but has second thoughts and starts to retreat to second. But he knows he must get to third to score. Everyone on each side has an opinion regarding what he should do. Parents and grandparents rise to their feet. Some are shouting ‘Go back! Go back!”  Others are shouting, “Run! Run!”  The boy must decide, and in a split second.

 Then, he hears one voice above all the others, his father’s voice.  His father cups his hands to his mouth and shouts, “Run!” Immediately he hurls his body toward third base!  One voice made the difference, the father’s voice.

 We are all like the Little Leaguer on second base.  Voices come from every corner telling us what to do. Every day we face an onslaught of commercials on TV, pop ups on computers and smart phones. Everyone has opinions and advise about what we should do. But, there is only one voice that truly matters, the Father’s voice.  

 This is what Jesus taught us as a 12-year-old boy.  The Father’s voice makes the difference.  When Mary and Joseph found him in the temple after he had been missing in Jerusalem for 3 days, he said to them, “Why were you looking for me?  Did you not know I must be about the things of my Father?” (Luke 2  Later, as an adult, he said, “I speak the things I have seen from my Father,” (John 8:38). “All things I have heard from my Father I have made known to you.” (John 15:15).

 What is the will of our Father in Heaven? What does He want us to do?  He always has our interest at heart and He always knows what is best.  Listen to Him.