You never know what a day will bring. Today and yesterday I’ve had the pleasure of spending many hours in the waiting room at the NC State Vet Hospital. Yes, Mr. Bingley surprised us by requiring an unexpected visit to one of the finest veterinarian schools in the nation.
Now first, let me say that this is a lovely waiting room.
I’m totally serious.
Open and airy, bright and clean, plenty of room and quite comfortable. And the folks here are extremely nice and helpful. It’s actually been peaceful, and I’ve enjoyed the time and space to catch up on emails, note-writing, and Bible study.
The only possible downside is the constant whine of the TV. (And can I just add that I totally do not get why anybody would watch some of these shows-- like “The View.” Who are these people? Why does anyone care about their opinions on Tiger’s latest girlfriend escapades or the most recent movie star to enter rehab? Really?? No wonder our country is going to pieces. As usual, I digress.)
Okay, there’s another possible downside--the bill. But in honor of my husband who’s on the verge of a breakdown in contemplation of our final bill, let’s keep our minds fixed on what is good, lovely, noble, and excellent.
Here’s how this all began. We had just returned home from the Broughton boys second place finish at the States--meaning, not everyone was in a fabulou mood--to find Bingley breathing strangely. I don’t know how to describe it except as a bit labored with bursts of random panting. Moreover, he seemed sad and dispirited (maybe he'd heard about the golf) and was not much interested in food. Now that’s a sure sign of terrible and dire illness in our household--both for dog and humans. Mr. B kept wanting to crawl into our laps while making really pitiful moaning sounds. We were worried.
Maybe you think I’m going into too much detail describing our sweet dog’s condition...but then you’re not sitting in the vet room waiting room for the umpteenth hour, are you? What else have I got to do?
But the point is--yes, eventually I will get to the point--Bingley was clearly not himself, and we were concerned. When we called our regular vet early the next morning, they told us to get him to the vet school pronto because of his breathing problems. So poor old Mr. B has been out here since about 7:15 yesterday morning. It’s now 3:30 p.m. on the following day. And the poor guy has not been allowed to eat for the past two days. That would qualify as positively disastrous in my book.
X-rays revealed Bingley had a big, bad swollen place in the back of his throat (hence the breathing problems), and the doctors were trying to schedule surgery to have it removed. But it’s an emergency clinic, so Mr. B’s surgery kept getting moved back. So we’ve been waiting...and waiting.
But just a few minutes ago, great news! By this afternoon, a cat scan (yes, Lord have mercy, a doggie cat scan--trying not to contemplate the cost of that oxymoron) revealed the swelling was starting to go down, so no surgery, at least for now. They’re treating him with antibiotics and anti-inflammatory drugs and sending him today! Yay!
A day later--
Clearly I had too much time on my hands in that waiting room. I cannot believe the excruciating detail I just went into with our dog. I’m cutting to the chase (do I hear the sound of applause?)--Mr. Bingley was one gloriously happy dog when we brought him home.
But here's what I’m wondering--what on earth must Bingley have been thinking when suddenly his Shangri-La life of walks, treats, hugs and kisses, and car-riding, shockingly vanished? For no apparent reason--from his perspective--he was thrust into a foreign world of pain, strange people, IV’s, and an isolated cage for a bed.
If dogs can grieve--and I believe they can--he was surely grieving and feeling lonely and sorely confused. He might've figured his family and his good old life were gone forever, and this was his sad new reality.
Okay, okay...I recognize that dogs don’t possess quite the level of introspection and intelligent thought which most humans are capable of, but still, it sure got me to thinking. Because isn’t that often my bewildered response when God allows hardship or disappointment or seemingly pointless suffering into my life or the into the lives of those I love--
What on earth Father? Why have You allowed this? Don’t You see? Don’t You care? Why don’t You do something?
When we can't understand, we question or doubt rather than trust.
But we don’t know all the facts. We don’t see the whole picture. Only God sees and knows all. We had no way to explain to Bingley that what we were doing was saving his life. Had he not been at the Vet school, he might have died from the infection or from the swelling that was cutting off his air supply. And so, because we love our dog, we allowed some short term pain...in order to produce far greater long term gain.
In those spaces of sorrow or confusion, we have to trust the perfectly good and relentlessly loving heart of God even when we don't necessarily understand what His hand is doing. And we can see and know His heart in His Word--
“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” (James 1:2-4)
“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose.” (Rom.8:28)
“More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” (Rom.5:3-5)
“And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.” (I Pet.5:10)
I could go on and on with verses that remind us that God’s in control of every single thing that happens in our lives. And His Word reveals over and over again that He's using the good, the bad, and the terribly ugly in our lives for far greater purposes and all springing out of His infinite love for us.
We may not see it right now--in fact, some sorrows and difficulties we may not understand until we reach heaven. But we can know, know, know that if God loved us so much that He became a man, came to earth to die for our sins, and conquered death and rose again so that we might have eternal life, well then, His love and power will use and transform every pain, disappointment, and tragedy in our lives for our far greater good and His greater glory.
Even when we cannot see with our eyes, we can trust the One Who is the Light of the world.
Even when we cannot understand, we can look to the cross where God took the very worst and turned it into the very best. As Paul Tripp says, "Be careful how you make sense of your life. What looks like a disaster may in fact be grace. What looks like the end may be the beginning. What looks hopeless may be God's instrument to give you real and lasting hope. Your Father is committed to taking what seems so bad and turning it into something that is very, very good."
That's how He works...at the cross and in all our circumstances. He's always making all things new...even if we, like Bingley, often can't see it at the time.
Thank You, Lord Jesus. We trust You and love You.
To God be the glory.