Thinking about walking before a run (Is 30: 18-21)

So, since we got our new dog, China, from the SPCA, I've taken her on six walks.  We are going to try to make sure that she gets walks of varying lengths at least three times per day.  The walks are fun and brisk and remind me of the joy of walking and the joy, particularly, of walking with a strong and relatively young dog.  Before I go for my run this morning (jogging a 5K race with my 12 year old and running a 10K at my own pace on a steamy Sunday morning), I've been thinking about walking.  Why?  Well, I do a lot of running.  I use my running to get me thinking about the Bible and about my beliefs and actions (today I have two bib numbers as I am running two races!).  But, at the end of the day, there are very few Bible stories that I can think of with any focus on running--with the possible exception of Peter running to Jesus's empty tomb on Easter morning.  However, there are plenty of references to walking in the way of the Lord.  A quick search led me to one: Isaiah 30:18-21 (as usual from the New American Bible Revised Edition):

Truly, the LORD is waiting to be gracious to you,
truly, he shall rise to show you mercy;
For the LORD is a God of justice:
happy are all who wait for him!

Yes, people of Zion, dwelling in Jerusalem,
you shall no longer weep;
He will be most gracious to you when you cry out;
as soon as he hears he will answer you.

The Lord will give you bread in adversity
and water in affliction.
No longer will your Teacher hide himself,
but with your own eyes you shall see your Teacher,

And your ears shall hear a word behind you:
“This is the way; walk in it,”
when you would turn to the right or the left.

Of course, this was about the future of Zion.  Verse 18 reflects patience.  We haven't had to have too much patience with our new dog (since we figured out what she likes to eat).  But all new family members require some patience.  And all relationships (with dogs or people) require patience.

We wept when our old dog passed.  I won't necessarily go so far as to say that God led us to this dog, but we were surprised that no one else had taken her.  A young couple even looked at her while we were there and chose not to take her home.  We feel that God has certainly answered our call for knowing when the time was right and then the animal was right.  

God always provides for my family.  

And, while we are usually the one directing the dog when we are walking rather than the dog directing us, there is definitely a sense of rightness about the whole thing.  A sense that this is where the Lord wants us to be.  A sense that this is part of our family's mission. And a sense of waiting to see what this new relationship with a dog brings to us.  

And regardless, the mere act of walking and thinking about my relationship with God along the way, is a reminder that I should always seek to walk in the way of the Lord.  I hope to be able to say, "This is the way" and I am walking in it every day.  I don't always succeed but walking a lot more over the past three days has reminded me of how important it is to try.  Parenthetically, maybe I am a bit more of a kinetic learner than I ever thought.  

New Life

Yesterday my wife and I decided not to wait so long to get a new dog.  We brought home what the SPCA called a shepherd/chow-chow mix.

What do I already know this dog will teach us?

(1) Unconditional love--she definitely shows it
(2) Patience--as we figure out how to get her to bark a little more to let us know she wants to go out (without barking all the time for no reason) and what she wants to eat
(3) Balancing responsibility--as we add dog walking back onto our to do list
(4) Peace--which this dog seems to feel at almost all times even though she was coming from a shelter

I'm sure we'll be abel to teach her a few things, too.  It just demonstrates the very cool interchange between people and animals. And, after the former student's passing this week, I am very happy to be happily celebrating new life in the continuing week of contrasts.

Praise God!

Job 12: 7-10 and a Tribute to Sheba (Don't Read if You Don't Want to be Sad)

Yesterday, the vet came to our house to euthanize our dog.  Emailing and speaking to the vet on Monday to ask her to come over was incredibly disturbing to me.  But by yesterday morning when whatever spark we had seen in Sheba last Friday (when we had taken her to the vet for a visit that we had expected to be her last on Thursday of last week) was gone, we knew it was the right thing to do.  And when I say the spark was gone, it was totally and completely gone.

The process of helping the dog along her way to death seemed pretty straightforward.  She was already so tired and in what finally looked like such pain that she could barely get up to walk.  My sons and I will have stories to tell about a ramp on our steps for the last two days of her life.  Not quite a MacGyver moment, but definitely a bit of ingenuity.  

I did get her up from the spot she'd found in the sun early yesterday afternoon to sit nearer a place where I could sit and just pet her until the vet arrived.  The vet had what looked like supplies for the process inside (in particular a blanket to put the dog on in case she urinated or defecated upon death), but since she was outside and looked pretty much at peace already, the tech and the vet decided just to perform the process where she was.  When she was given the injection for the sedative, she didn't even fight the tech holding her mouth closed.  More than anything else we'd seen the past several days, the complete lack of fighting back showed that our dog was ready.  Last week on Friday at the vet's office she still needed to be muzzled.  Whatever declining path she was on was simply interrupted for one trip to the vet and a glorious weekend over which she got up and walked around one last time--eating freshly cooked meat and lots of treats.  Reminding us of the incredible dog she had been and the part of our family she was for about ten years.

So, while today's reading was not on the list of things I'd planned to blog about before Easter--usually a time to celebrate new life--I looked for references to dogs or animals in the Bible.  There are some obvious ones such as several in Genesis.  But I stumbled upon Job 12: 7-10

But now ask the beasts to teach you, the birds of the air to tell you;
Or speak to the earth to instruct you, and the fish of the sea to inform you.
Which of all these does not know that the hand of God has done this?
In his hand is the soul of every living thing, and the life breath of all mortal flesh.

Now, it is important to realize the context of this passage.  Job is a book in which a man has much taken away and is struggling with the reason for suffering.  This passage is about looking for answers to why people who don't follow God were prosperous and the Catholic bible footnote describes this as "a bitter parody of the power of God."  

But if we take these verses for what they are, they remind us of two things.  Animals can teach us a lot.  And this passage raises an interesting question about souls.

First, what can we learn from animals?  Dogs are quite loyal.  While Sheba was one of the most stubborn dogs we've ever met (she could still fight against going where you wanted her to go even in her weakest moment until the very very end), she was incredibly loyal to us and incredibly protective of us.  She was a wonderful companion.  She would sit with me.  She would sit and wait for me.  She helped me in my return to a healthy lifestyle (of exercise) starting in 2006.  I will be forever in debt to her for needing to be walked so far when we first got her.  I remember walking a 10K distance with her once.  She was "all in" when it came to my family.  And that sometimes caused us grief.  She bit a worker at a kennel one time--we thought the worker behaved pretty stupidly to provoke her, but nevertheless, my dog earned a reputation there and we never returned.  She barked an awful lot even when we tried to get her to calm down.  She once killed a mouse--seeming to be bothered that it was usually the cat's job.  She chased many squirrels out of our yard, and we think that she kept woodpeckers away from our kids playground equipment until last summer when she was kenneled for a week and we found a lot more damage that had ever occurred before.  She also taught patience.  Not 100%--when she needed to go out, she really needed to go out.  But when it came to waiting for dinner or waiting for a walk, she just sat.  And looked.  And waited.  And she taught us, at the end, the importance of just letting go.  To the degree that a dog known when it is time, yesterday she did.  But as one last sign of her stubbornness the sedative didn't put her to sleep.  She got very calm, but was still awake as the vet and the tech began the process of finding the vein for the final med to bring her peace.

Second, what about souls?  Here, the Catholic church teaches that animals do not have souls.  Yet, the one verse in Job says, "In his hand is the soul of every living thing."  And, there are many ideas about dogs (or pets in general) going to heaven.  Several people sent me a poem about the Rainbow Bridge--which is another interesting link to other parts of life as my kids' elementary school uses the concept of a rainbow bridge to welcome children to elementary school.  Whether my dog has a soul or not--I don't want to debate Catholic theology at the moment.  But my dog clearly had a living spirit.  It was clearly alive and motivating her.  And, as she breathed her last, I envisioned her spirit, finally set free from being trapped in a declining body.  Getting up and running.  Running to chase the squirrels and the birds.  Running to great the next door neighbor dogs.  Running to bark at a dog in the back alley or a dog being walked out front.  Running ahead on a walk. Running--running--running.  Living.  Exuberant.  Welcoming.  Everything that is positively associated with dog.  And running off to a place where she can be free, safe, comfortable, and at peace.

I cried yesterday.  I've been tearing up as I write this.  I'm sure I'll cry again.  Even my sixteen year old--who was completely trying to hold it together--posted a picture of our dog on his FB page.  It was hard to cry as we prepared to bury her yesterday.  Digging a sufficiently deep whole is hard work.  But we all worked together, and we all were together as we finally laid her to rest.  For a family drawn in so many different directions so much of the time, it completely brought us together.  Will that togetherness and unity last? We shall see.

In conclusion, this morning was a weird wake-up.  Every morning for the past ten years, I have awakened to feed the dog, provide her some water, open the door, and let her out.  I've had the chance to greet her and be greeted by her.  I've had a chance to pet her.  I already miss that.  I think even the cats do too.

Psalm 96:1-3

Earlier this week I wrote about Mary, Martha, and Lazarus.

Yesterday, I wrote about waiting for an answer from the LORD.

Two days ago I was sure my dog was ready to leave this world.

Yesterday my perked up (obviously she had not been dead, as in the story of Lazarus, but her amount of recovery seemed nearly like the death to new life of the Lazarus story), impressed the vet, and gained at least one more day on this earth.  That made me think about singing for joy, and that led me to Psalm 96 verses 1-3

Sing to the LORD a new song; sing to the LORD, all the earth.
Sing to the LORD, bless his name; proclaim his salvation day after day.
Tell his glory among the nations; among all peoples, his marvelous deeds.

The LORD does marvelous deeds.  His glory and salvation are important aspects of my life.  I try to share that with all I know.  Not in evangelical worlds most of the time.  Mostly just in the way I live.

This morning, as I prepare to run another race today, spend the early afternoon with my 7 year old at a lacrosse game, and enjoy the weekend, I look at my dog.  She actually looks not much better than on Thursday.  

Why did she perk up for one day?  I'm not sure I'll ever know.  Might she perk up again later today or tomorrow?  The vet did tell us that it really will be a day by day issue at this point in time.  So, maybe she will.  Or maybe she is just such a proud dog that she wants everything (even the way she goes) to be on her terms.  

I think that the most important lesson to take away from all this is that every day with a friend or family member is precious.  Every moment should be appreciated and enjoyed to the fullest.  And be libing every moment to its fullest potential it is possible to give glory to the LORD.