My dog, Mimu, up until last January, had touched the inside of her carrier kennel ONCE. Twice, tops. [That event included interstate driving, a lot of unbearable whining, letting her out, and her semi-successful attempt to scale my back like a cat at 75 mph on I-90. But that's a story for another time. We probably shouldn't be alive.]
When I started my temp job back in January, I had to start doing a lot of things differently. After 6 months of leisurely lounging around with my pup all day I was suddenly faced with a dilemma: lock up my precious baby for 8 hours a day in her kennel, or spend 20 minutes every evening after work locating and cleaning up pee spots?
Yep. In the kennel she went.
For the last 3 months, every morning goes just about the same. It hits about 8:30 AM, I am scrambling for a last minute sock or bobby pin before I leave for work, and Mimu is no where to be found. I call her name. I search the upstairs. Flip a few couches. I usually find her curled up in some far corner of the house with her eyes closed--as if she's attempting to feign sleep for disobedience. As I pick her up, she'll crack a lid and look at me sideways out of the corner of her eye, as if to say,
"Ohhh you were calling for me. I thought you wanted the...other Mimu."
Some mornings I'll find her before she's had a chance to hide, and as I say her name [slowly, with that disapproving tone, eyebrows furrowed...Mimuuuuuuu] she will immediately shrink down--as if crawling under a tiny, invisible limbo stick--and try to slink away in shame.
No matter what state I find her in, I quickly pick her up with a hand around her belly, promptly walk to the kennel, and slide her inside with two of her toys while trying to avoid direct eye contact. Seriously, her eyes are so SAD! Anyway.
This has been our routine since January 23rd. So...this has happened roughly 100 times. Every weekday morning.
Until Tuesday.
Tuesday morning I climbed the stairs as I got ready to leave for work, I began calling her name as always. As I peeked my head around the corner of the upstairs hallway to see if I could see her slinking away, I watched her do something that made me choke up. {I'm such a sap.}
There she was laying in the middle of the room. As I spoke she lifted her head, looked at me, picked up the bone she had been gnawing on, and made her way to her kennel where she proceeded to climb in and settle down. I couldn't believe it.
I know dogs don't have thoughts like we do. I know. But I started tearing up when I thought about how, even though she knew she would spend 8 hours alone in that kennel, she climbed in anyway because I wanted her to and she trusted me. That's all there was to it. She doesn't like it. I tell her to do it. And she does because (I'd like to think) she trusts me and I love her. I may have sentimentally let some tears fall all the way to work that morning.
In that, I guess I saw a glimpse of how God wants me to live. There are a LOT of things I do on a weekly basis that I don't directly enjoy because I know God wants me to and I've trusted Him with my life. And if it made me that happy to see my dog blindly follow my direction, how much more must our Heavenly Father be pleased when we blindly trust in Him?
How many times a week do I feel conviction from the Holy Spirit but ignore it? Hearing the call while lazily curled up in some far corner of the house with my eyes closed. Hearing His warning and attempting to feign sleep for disobedience. Yep, I'll crack a lid and look at Him sideways out of the corner of my eye, as if to say,
"Ohhh you were calling for me? I thought you meant the...other Kayla."
Psalm 18:2 says,
"The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge. He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold."
What if when God speaks in my life and says, "Turn off that movie/show/song. It's not what's best for you," I just DO it? What if He says, "This is a relationship you should invest time in, even though it'll be awkward at first," and I PURSUE that? What if He says, "You don't know why, but I want you to work at US Bank." And what if I just obediently climb in that big 'ole "kennel" and trust that He knows best?
I don't think I'm ever going to look back and think:
I sure wish I had been less obedient.
Only God could use a pup [in need of a haircut and potty-training] for His glory. Amen.
When I started my temp job back in January, I had to start doing a lot of things differently. After 6 months of leisurely lounging around with my pup all day I was suddenly faced with a dilemma: lock up my precious baby for 8 hours a day in her kennel, or spend 20 minutes every evening after work locating and cleaning up pee spots?
Yep. In the kennel she went.
For the last 3 months, every morning goes just about the same. It hits about 8:30 AM, I am scrambling for a last minute sock or bobby pin before I leave for work, and Mimu is no where to be found. I call her name. I search the upstairs. Flip a few couches. I usually find her curled up in some far corner of the house with her eyes closed--as if she's attempting to feign sleep for disobedience. As I pick her up, she'll crack a lid and look at me sideways out of the corner of her eye, as if to say,
"Ohhh you were calling for me. I thought you wanted the...other Mimu."
Some mornings I'll find her before she's had a chance to hide, and as I say her name [slowly, with that disapproving tone, eyebrows furrowed...Mimuuuuuuu] she will immediately shrink down--as if crawling under a tiny, invisible limbo stick--and try to slink away in shame.
No matter what state I find her in, I quickly pick her up with a hand around her belly, promptly walk to the kennel, and slide her inside with two of her toys while trying to avoid direct eye contact. Seriously, her eyes are so SAD! Anyway.
This has been our routine since January 23rd. So...this has happened roughly 100 times. Every weekday morning.
Until Tuesday.
Tuesday morning I climbed the stairs as I got ready to leave for work, I began calling her name as always. As I peeked my head around the corner of the upstairs hallway to see if I could see her slinking away, I watched her do something that made me choke up. {I'm such a sap.}
There she was laying in the middle of the room. As I spoke she lifted her head, looked at me, picked up the bone she had been gnawing on, and made her way to her kennel where she proceeded to climb in and settle down. I couldn't believe it.
I know dogs don't have thoughts like we do. I know. But I started tearing up when I thought about how, even though she knew she would spend 8 hours alone in that kennel, she climbed in anyway because I wanted her to and she trusted me. That's all there was to it. She doesn't like it. I tell her to do it. And she does because (I'd like to think) she trusts me and I love her. I may have sentimentally let some tears fall all the way to work that morning.
In that, I guess I saw a glimpse of how God wants me to live. There are a LOT of things I do on a weekly basis that I don't directly enjoy because I know God wants me to and I've trusted Him with my life. And if it made me that happy to see my dog blindly follow my direction, how much more must our Heavenly Father be pleased when we blindly trust in Him?
How many times a week do I feel conviction from the Holy Spirit but ignore it? Hearing the call while lazily curled up in some far corner of the house with my eyes closed. Hearing His warning and attempting to feign sleep for disobedience. Yep, I'll crack a lid and look at Him sideways out of the corner of my eye, as if to say,
"Ohhh you were calling for me? I thought you meant the...other Kayla."
Psalm 18:2 says,
"The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge. He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold."
What if when God speaks in my life and says, "Turn off that movie/show/song. It's not what's best for you," I just DO it? What if He says, "This is a relationship you should invest time in, even though it'll be awkward at first," and I PURSUE that? What if He says, "You don't know why, but I want you to work at US Bank." And what if I just obediently climb in that big 'ole "kennel" and trust that He knows best?
I don't think I'm ever going to look back and think:
I sure wish I had been less obedient.
Only God could use a pup [in need of a haircut and potty-training] for His glory. Amen.