A Lesson from my Dog

Early this morning, our sweet old dog, Moses, and I went for a walk. Moses is teaching me a number of lessons, one of which is patience. When I say sweet "old" dog, I mean it. He has slowed down considerably over the past year. We used to run together, but we "graduated" to walking briskly about a year ago--frankly, we're both thankful since Moses and I have clearly aged out of the pounding and stress running puts on our bodies. But now our formerly brisk, semi-long walks have "graduated" to shorter and shorter veeeeeeeeery slow walks. You simply cannot imagine how many things there apparently are to smell on the greenway. Bushes, trees, branches, blades of grass, trash, and certain unmentionables left behind by other dogs, just to name a few. Unbelievable! And, apparently, the smells are so fascinating and scintillating that the thought of actually continuing to move and walk lose all appeal for Moses. Meanwhile, I am pulling (HARD) trying to get him to budge, so we can get some exercise, and, I'm embarrassed to say, sometimes growing irritated and impatient with our GLACIAL pace.

Even writing this convicts me of how this reflects my complete lack of patience and my inability to wait--in general--with a contented, peaceful heart. How often do I bustle through my day, oblivious to God's agenda or the people He puts in my path? And how frequently am I ungrateful for all the blessings strewn in my path, because I am on to bigger and better things (or so I suppose)? Lord forgive me!

You know, you can learn an awful lot from a dog. Yeah, yeah, you think, I've heard all about slowing down to smell the roses, but, gracious, isn't it sad how frequently we fail to do just that? And just think about what dogs are smelling! If they can enjoy smelling whatever disgusting thing it is they like to smell, how can we not slacken our frantic pace a bit to appreciate the dainty sliver of the new moon or the gentle sound of the wind in the pine trees or the raucous laughter of our teenager's carpool? Are we really too busy and rushed not to notice that exhausted grocery bagger or that lonely widow or that overwhelmed teacher? Surely I can meander a bit more in my day--even if it's only in my heart and my attitude--so that I can pause and thank the Lord for the bracing air of winter or the sound of a favorite song or the taste of a chewy bagel.

I may have mentioned it before, but one of my favorite quotes is from Nicodemus of the Holy Mountain (don't ask me who that is--I read his quote in a book):

"Every time you feel in God's creatures something pleasing and attractive, do not let your attention be arrested by them alone, but, passing them by, transfer your thought to God and say: 'O my God, if Thy creations are so full of beauty, delight and joy, how infinitely more full of beauty, delight and joy art Thou Thyself, Creator of all!"

Amen! Any God who could create a black labrador, or really most any dog (but especially labs), must be pretty incredible, indeed! Or the mind that could conceive of giraffes and tigers and elephants and anteaters--can you imagine?! Or the beauty of gently falling snow or the haunting sound of hoot owls, or the majestic power of waterfalls. Just today, as Moses and I walked along, I looked up and saw the fingernail sliver of a new moon outlined by the bare branches of the trees, and I thought, such is my Creator Lord! I couldn't help but be reminded of the line from Shakespeare describing winter's tree branches, "bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang."

I've only touched on the lessons a dog can teach us (O, yes, there is more to be mined on this wonderful subject!), but for today, Lord, teach us to slow down and taste and see that the Lord is good" (Ps.34:8). We can't taste and see His goodness and greatness if we don't have hearts attuned to Him and slacken our pace--at least in our perspective and our attitude--to see Him reflected in His creatures and His creation.

I may still be pulling hard on Moses' leash, but I'll be praising God in my heart for the stout heart of a dog and the strength of an arm and the lushness of that alluring blade of grass! O, if a dog could be so loyal and loving, imagine the God who made the dog! "How infinitely more full of beauty, delight, and joy, art Thou Thyself Creator of all!" To our creative, good and great God, be all the glory.