The leftovers are foiled up, the pies are decimated. I slept deeply and awoke to a flood of dog pee. Sammy is taking medication that makes him extremely thirsty, so he’s drinking more than usual. And polite little man that he is, he did not want to disturb my food coma to tell me he needed to go outside.
I have much to be thankful for, including the health of my dog. Your prayers worked. Samson is home and recuperating from a gnarly intestinal malady. He is on special food and meds but we are expecting a full recovery, in Jesus’ name. His little shaved paw and bony back are heartbreaking, but his cuddles are priceless.
What would we do without our Bubbas?
Thank you, my friends, for your prayers. I am so very grateful.
If you’ve read this blog more than once, you are probably aware of my second child, my furbaby, my bubba… Samson. Sammy is our 4-year-old American Bulldog who brings more love and joy to our family than you can imagine.
Our bubba has been in the vet hospital this week with an unknown issue in his tummy. He has been submitted to lots of tests and tomorrow he will undergo a more invasive endoscopy to take a look inside. My apologies for than unpleasant imagery.
I have prayed for my puppy a lot. I have also questioned myself and my faith on whether you can believe God for healing for a pet. I have mulled on this for days and a smarter person than me, a more theological person, could educate me thoroughly, but here’s what I know.
God cares about what I care about. The Lord will complete that which concerns me. Psalm 138:8 I care about the health of my dog, and I love him very much.
My hands and my prayers carry power. …They will take up serpents; and if they drink anything deadly, it will by no means hurt them; they will lay hands on the sick, and they will recover. Mark 16:18 I have laid my hands on him and prayed the prayer of faith.
The power of Biblical agreement is boundless. …If two of you agree on earth concerning anything that they ask, it will be done for them by My Father in heaven. Matthew 18:18 I have many people close to me standing in agreement that Sammy is healed.
I do not care how God does it, but I believe that His healing work has begun in my puppy. I will take him for his tests tomorrow, they will get to the bottom of it, they will successfully treat him, and he will come home, safe and sound.
And God will get the glory.
Most nights, I am the last one to bed, and my routine is set. I let the dog out one last time, turn out all the lights, and make my way upstairs. The house is pitch black, the dog bounds up ahead of me jumping right onto my side of the bed, warming up my spot. Isn’t he considerate?
Having much better night vision than me, he never stumbles on his way. I on the other hand, have to navigate a gauntlet of shoes and backpacks and Lord knows what else. But I have no fear. My trusty iPhone lights the path up the stairs and to my bedroom. My path is lit just enough to spare me the disaster. The light doesn’t shine far, it only lights up what I’m about to step on or trip over, but I know with my phone, I can navigate my way through.
God loves to navigate us through our blackest black because our weakest moments show His most amazing works. And our human frailties show His abounding mercy, love, and grace. What He is looking for is a heart that would say in its darkest moment, God I trust you to work this out. I expect a miracle from my loving God.
You see, He is always right there, to lift us out of the miry clay and set our feet upon a rock. (Psalm 40:2) He is always there in the midst of the storm, but it’s our choice to say, God help me, and I trust you.
A dear and wise friend reminded me that it is our human frailty that best showcases His mighty power. It is through our weakness that He can show Himself strong. Though I may give God many opportunities to bail me out of messes, I know that from my most disastrous failures will come His most dazzling victories.
How did my dog not have enough energy to jump in the car without help after his session at doggy daycare, but he did have enough to tip over the trash can and spread it all over my kitchen? That’s the last time I give him an Advil wrapped in a piece of turkey… the little turkey. And it was the last piece of turkey, no less, which is why the tastylicious container was in the trash, beckoning him.
I love my dog so much; it’s a little scary. And it’s impossible for me to discipline him. He already knows what he’s done anyway. This morning when I came into the kitchen, he was sulking, head-down on his bed, guilt in his eyes. Normally he would be all happy and waggy and snuffling my legs while I turn on the blessed Keurig coffee contraption and stand there like a crack addict waiting for a fix.
There is no need to scold him, he has already chastised himself. And don’t we do that very same thing when we screw up?
We know when we’re wrong, we know when we’re not glorifying God in our actions. We know when our attitude stinks. God doesn’t have to point it out to us. But we tend to beat ourselves up anyway, which many times leads to further trouble.
God doesn’t want to beat us up, why should we?
Today is a new day, and even if you knocked over the trash can last night, you get a fresh start. God is in the business of love and forgiveness, not punishment and grudges. It’s right there in black and white. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9 NIV).
Whew! That’s all I can say!
I love me some big puppy ears… so soft, so warm and sweet. My Samson’s got a marvelous pair. But unfortunately, he isn’t the best listener; like when he ignores my outrage and sticks his entire head into the kitchen trash can. I hate it when he does that.
Can you imagine what God must think of us when we do stupid things that we know are going to get us in trouble? Don’t you think He’d get really tired of telling us to not do stupid things like put our heads in the trash can? I bet He gets real tired of telling me. Apparently, I’m a slow learner. Or maybe I’m just a selective listener. Either way, it gets me in a heap of trouble.
You know, God is always talking to us, even when we aren’t listening. His sweet Holy Spirit is always there; His Word promises it: But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all things that I said to you (John 14:26).
Once again, in my experience, it’s easier said than done.
Listening to God takes commitment, it takes action, at times it takes major humility, more than I’ve got, I’m sorry to say.
You would think God would be easy to hear; I mean, He is God. But that doesn’t mean He speaks loudly. And He’s a gentleman. We have the option to listen closely or to turn up the volume on everything else around us to drown out the patient, loving voice of our Father God.
But oh thank God, He is patient with us, He is merciful every day, and He keeps talking. We just have to keep listening.
Why must I share my bed with a 90-pound canine? Why must I share the couch with same said canine? Why must the canine follow my every move around the house? I can’t even go to the bathroom alone. It’s like having a toddler all over again; I trip over him when I come out.
It’s loyalty. It’s love, devotion, and hope that I will share my food with him. My dog likes bread, I give him the crusts off my sandwiches, he’s spoiled rotten.
I didn’t mean for him to become codependent on me, I didn’t mean to become the alpha human, but it happened anyway. I guess he just knows that the Mom is the kingpin. I’m the one from whom all blessings flow. (All the Methodists can sing along!)
Everyone ought to feel the love and utter devotion you can get from a giant bulldog; there is really nothing like it.
And the best part? He barks like he’s going to eat any bad guy that comes around me, but my sister’s chihuahua is much more likely to actually bite. Samson is all bark. He’s scared of the vacuum cleaner. He hid between my legs the other day after he was dive-bombed by a locust. It was hilarious. I screamed like a girl, but hey, I am a girl.
This is going nowhere.
Three cheers for our best friends, for dog hair on all our clothes, and for complete and total love from a furry being.
Hmm, wonder what’s for dinner.
Oops, busted. Hi, Mom. I was just looking. Promise.
Ok, I’m leaving. Sheesh.
Don’t worry buddy, there wasn’t anything good in there anyway.
I’m so glad it’s Friday; aren’t you?