Preserve me, O God, for in Thee do I put my trust.
Psalms 16:1 (KJV21)
It’s time for another sermon from the dog.
I’ve been taken to task three times this morning by people who love me for retreating into my miserableness and robbing people who need it of my sunshine (and here I was thinking my miserableness was all about me….hrmph!).
Every morning, I hear the conversely plaintive, playful, pleading cries of our doggy requesting his morning walk. His faith is unassailable, like mine needs to be. There is no quavering uncertainty about whether he will be leashed, walked, watered, fed, played with, or adored.
His reality is incontrovertible...you will take me for a walk.
He must be walked. Not only for purposes of health and hygiene, but also because it reinforces his place in the pack, his position in the family, his relationship with each of us, because it is what we do.
Like the unshakable faith we’re supposed to have in God.
We spend so much time worrying, fearing, contingency-planning, strategizing, that we are never, or at least I am never, or very seldom ever, certain, like my dog, that I am preserved because I have placed my trust in God. I desire for it to be so simple.
I can be asleep, in the early morning, on a weekend day after being up far too late for good health or good sense. When Sando cries, it is with full assurance that he says, as only my puppy can, “You will take me for a walk.” It is not a command. It is not a demand. It simply is. Like the love of God. It simply is.
I have slowly devolved into a grumpy, frightened person whom I don’t enjoy spending time with, much. I need to listen to the sermon from my dog. His clarity is undeniable, and suddenly, inspirational. Consider the lilies of the field…
You will take me for a walk. You will never allow me to walk alone.
You have always been my strength. You raised the sun, before I awakened. You ended the night and ushered in the day, whether I was in the mood or not. You are eternal, and I must depend upon you.
I’m easing out of my funk, despite my best efforts, because people love me and are vested in my joy. I overcomplicate and over-think things all the time, because I can neither get out of my own head nor my own way.
I need to act like my dog.
When it rains, he gets walked. When he’s naughty, he gets walked. When he wakes up way too early, knocks things down and knocks things over, he gets walked. His faith is indomitable, and I can’t be beaten by a dog….
So, thank you Lord, for filling my cup to overflowing even when I’m so busy focusing on the mess that I can’t see the abundance in all my overflow. Because all around, my life is richly filled with abundant blessings, and, as on every other day, I see further evidence that God is Good.
Just another lesson from the dog.
How about you? Any lessons you’ve learned lately from your dog?
Rochelle Wilson blogs at Treat Me to a Feast about her life lived forward, reviewed backward, through the lens of faith. She’s a PK (Pastor’s Kid), who’s been a Baptist church musician since she was five. Always a dancer and athlete, as an adult she turned to liturgical dance to deepen her personal worship. It worked. Rochelle laughs a lot, is married to her first love and prom date nearly 20 years ago. Together God gave them two children and a boxer who is the other love of her life, confidante, therapist, and physical trainer.