I'm in the Boston airport waiting to fly home and I just found out my dog died. I was so excited to see him. So in honor of Cecil I'm posting this blog I wrote a couple years ago about him. Love that little guy!
Cecil is such a cute little fur ball. I really love him. Like he might be the sweetest dog ever. No really. I know certain people think he is annoying and looks like an ugly old man, but they’re wrong…except that he does look like an old man with a serious under-bite, but he’s cute. He’s such a happy little guy too. And I love that’s he’s clumsy; he routinely does a nose dive off the golf cart, which turns into a somersault. It’s really funny, and then he pops right back up and runs around the yard all happy because he made me laugh. He’s just awesome. I’m going to try to insert a picture here, but I’m not sure I have the full handle on this blogging technology….someone may need to give me some kind of blog-tech course.
Success!!! Cecil!!! Well, Cecil as a puppy. Anyway, I dropped this little guy off to get groomed today, and when I came home and got out of my car, I realized just how much I appreciate his presence and joyful spirit…because he wasn’t there to greet me. And he really is always so incredibly happy to see me. No matter what time of day, what’s going on, if he’s busy doing something else (chasing cats, napping, eating, etc)…when I walk out outside or come home, he forgets everything else and immediately comes over, excited just to be with me. Cecil knows that he belongs to me, and he’s not upset about being owned or not having explicit freedom (I mean, he wouldn’t because he doesn’t have the brainpower) to be the dog he thinks he should be; he knows that he is mine and he is overjoyed that this is his role and purpose. He even sleeps outside my door at night, I suppose he thinks that he is watching over me or something. And I was thinking…how does this relationship compare to my relationship with God?
Obviously, I am lord over Cecil. I mean, clearly this isn’t going to be the perfect picture of me and God, because I’m not God and I didn’t create my dog, and sometimes I am guilty of ignoring him, but I own him. And he’s totally okay with that. It’s just who he is, the role he was meant to play, where he belongs. There’s no pride issues. There’s no trying to be lord over me on his part. He is perfectly happy being where he is. And this is just…so, right, so good. I truly think he just wants to please me, be near me, and he loves the praise and petting he gets from me…not in a prideful way. I mean, he’s not perfect, he’s very territorial and finds it necessary to sneak up on the porch at night to mark said territory and thoroughly ‘piss’ my mom off (honestly this kind of makes me chuckle a bit) and he has to be disciplined for some things, but the discipline is for his good. Afterwards he holds no grudges, remembers no shame, he totally accepts forgiveness and keeps on going with who he is. There is also no way that his much smaller brain and lack of reasoning power can fully grasp who I am or understand most of the things I do; he does know, however, that he is mine, that I am above him, I love him, care for him, feed him everyday like clockwork. He trusts me for his good even when he doesn’t understand.
So how do I compare with man’s best friend? I came across this quote from Radical by David Platt…
“God beckons storm clouds, and they come. He tells the wind to blow and the rain to fall, and they obey immediately. He speaks to the mountains, ‘You go there,’ and he says to the seas, ‘You stop here,’ and they do it. Everything in all creation responds in obedience to the Creator…until we get to you and me. We have the audacity to look God in the face and say, ‘No.’
I’ve got to say…when compared to my dog, A DOG, I don’t measure up. I’m all about me. I have trouble dropping whatever I’m doing when God pulls into the drive, too busy just to even greet him with joy. I’m like the little kid who says in a very annoyed voice…“in a minute, mom, I’m busy!!!!” “Hey, GOD of the universe… I’m currently too busy for you, can you come back later and maybe we can talk about that whatever…” I mean, He is God. He created me. I belong to Him. And I’m trying to tell Him about what I’m doing right now, my desires, why I’m too busy to obey Him, to revel in His presence with unimaginable joy. Something is seriously wrong here. The sea obeys His voice…and I tune Him out…and in the process have been outwitted by a dog.
I just want all this crap that gets in the way to leave. The pride. Satan’s sin. Adam and Eve’s sin. My sin. I don’t want to be God; even of my own life. I want to fall into that role of the person He created me to be, whoever that is, simply thankful and overjoyed to be His.
