Birdie Believes She Can Fly

Birdie believes she can fly. Never mind that she is a 9 month old, 50 pound Black Labrador Retriever, she believes she can fly! If only there was a way for her to get up enough speed and improve her leaping ability! That she has yet to catch one of those pesky robins on the power lines hasn't deterred her from trying, making a walk with her something of an adventure in holding onto her leash. There is no problem with her running away, it is just a matter of holding her on the ground while she constantly jumps for the heavens above . . . and maybe there is something to be learned from her.

How often are we reminded of our limitations rather than encouraged by our possibilities? How many times have we had our own leash yanked on by someone who was telling us how stupid we were for trying to fly? How many times have we done it to others? How many times have we told our children or grandchildren, "Oh, you can be anything you like (as long as it is something of which we approve)." How many times in the Church have we made the wonder of God inapproachable to children by the weight of our sinful behaviors? How many times have we kept others down in the pew when all they wanted to do was stand up in the Lord?

"Oh, we don't do that here." "No laughing or giggling in church." "I haven't seen them here before, and they certainly don't look like they belong here." "They want to what, in church?" "A woman preach?" "Communion for children?" "We're conservative here (which is code for, 'You would never catch me doing that!')" "The preacher really should have a talk with them (which is code for 'I can't explain why I don't like it, but I don't and I don't have the brass to say it myself!)" And the list goes on and on.

We just pull on the leash and hold down the hands of the Spirit hoping upon hope that the Church doesn't get out of control and find a way to fly in new directions 'on our watch'! God save us all if Birdie would catch a robin on the wire! Next thing you know, she'd be trying for red-tailed hawks out over the pasture!

Hmmmmmmm. Maybe I need to spend a little less time holding onto Birdie's leash and a little more time building a trampoline to aid her quest. Maybe there is something for all of us to learn in the trying.

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Don

Gifts

"It really is not my fault . . . they found me, I didn't go looking for them."

I had stopped in the country near our farm to visit with my aunt when two beautiful, but severely malnourished black lab puppies came running up to me from the nearby field. I didn't know whose they were or from what direction they had arrived, but figured the folks at the neighboring farmhouse might know and, after finishing the visit with my aunt, I picked the two bony little puppies up (quietly chastising the owners who had paid these two so little care) and carried them towards the house. Upon ringing the doorbell at the front door, a voice sounded from the side of the house, "Their yours!" Turning, I saw a fairly good-sized older gentleman heading towards me and I replied, "No, they're not mine. They just came running up to me on the road while I was visiting with my aunt. I figured I was bringing them back home."

"Heck, no!" he said. "While my son and I were watching the flood waters go down from the rain the other night, these two and two more just like them, four in all, came meandering along the creek looking for something to eat. All four are females and none of them had eaten well for quite a while. We gave them a couple of hot dogs from my frig and, after deciding they had probably been dumped, my son took two of them to his house . . . a friend of his will take one and he'll keep one . . . and the other two are what you just put down on the porch. And, they are yours! I'm leaving in two hours for Sturgis, South Dakota, for the Harley gathering and, I probably should take them to the pound, but I'm riding a motorcycle, so . . . if you don't take them, they'll probably just have to fend for themselves."

This guy had no earthly idea that just a month or so ago, I had talked with Nancy about beginning the process of searching for another black lab to replace our beloved Licorice (our first black lab) who had died about three years ago. I justified the suggestion by pointing out that our collie, Trajan, was all alone and needed company for those long days when we were both at work. Nancy, just looked at me and rolled her eyes and said, "We'll think about it", which I took to mean we would discuss it later. I recently found out what she really meant was, 'I could think about it all I wanted, but given that she did most of the work with the dog in terms of grooming and vet visits, it really wasn't going to happen until the Cubs won the World Series.' (Which is the Christian way of saying, It will be a cold day in _ _ _ _!)

So, I called Nancy on the cell phone to 'ask her opinion of what I should do'. If you listen to Nancy tell the story, I sounded like a little kid in the toy store on Christmas Eve, though I thought I was rather reserved and contemplative. Either way, a few short minutes later, two 9 or 10 week old black lab puppies were on the front seat of my car on their way to their new home in Lebanon, visa via the veterinaries clinic in the nearby town.

Their names are Mulligan (taken from a golf term meaning, 'A free second chance') and Birdie (simply because she is a 'bird' - into everything) and they are quickly making it clear that they are an answer to prayer . . . . maybe not Nancy's prayer, and not exactly what I was thinking about, but clearly an answer to a prayer for Trajan. He has more company now than he really appreciates, frequently looking at me like, 'Are you mad? Do you have any idea what these two are capable of wreaking in this household? What happened to my quiet time?'

Sometimes, God has a way of answering thoughts, suggestions and prayers in ways that we are quite simply incapable of imagining . . . and Mulligan and Birdie are two of the latest examples God's great sense of humor. Other than getting up through the night every 3 hours to let them out so that they will become kennel trained by Fall, they have been a ray of sunshine for all of us in our family . . . . gifts of a very loving and knowing God.

Nancy tells our friends with a wink of her eye that I somehow engineered all of this and fabricated an elaborate ruse to make it all happen, but deep down, she knows I will never vary from my original story and she will only fall more deeply in love with these two beautiful dogs with every passing day.

"It really is not my fault . . . they found me. I didn't go looking for them." That's my story and I'm sticking to it! (Thank you, God, for the gifts with which you surprise us!)

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Don

They Are Only 'Dogs' When They Are Not With You

This morning, as we tamped into place the last bit of soil for the grave of our son's yellow lab, Bogey, it occurred to me that, 'A dog is only a dog when they are not with you.' Any other mutt running around the neighborhood is a 'dog', but when they are with you they are uniquely personable, nameable, even lovable. Maybe that is what makes them 'Best Friends' with so many people, when they are with you they are absolutely, devotedly with you.

Bogey came into Matt's life as a gift from his wife, Bethany. Maybe the gift was more for their daughter, Cailin, than it was for Matt, but Bogey quickly became Matt's companion. Named for a golf score which indicates 'a stroke over par', Bogey has always been a stroke over par in personality. Highly excitable, overly energetic, wildly lovable, always curious about the world, willing to chase into oblivion anything she saw including rabbits and butterflies, with something of a Greyhound's willingness to run in her blood, and a penchant to go through any fence or boundary to get where she wanted to go, Bogey captured the 'little boy's imagination' of our grown son and romped with him through many an adventure.

Not unlike our own black Labrador, Licorice, next to whose grave Bogey now lays, Bogey did not want anything to do with gun fire or thunder, all the while lighting off fireworks of her own with her antics to run with the wind and gnaw on anything she could find. Fiercely loyal and affectionate, Bogey would slobber you with kisses one second and have you pumping your fist at her as she bounded out of her kennel and down the street the next. Yet, that is all part and parcel of having a best friend: You love them unconditionally in spite of their shortcomings, sometimes because of them. That is what Bogey did for Matt . . . and that is what Matt did for Bogey. Such friendships are two way blessings.

Over the years of being a farmer, I have learned there are words you just do not want to hear come from a veterinarian's mouth, like cancer, mass, tumors, spleen, anemic, treatable but fatal, and, the dreaded phrase, 'It's your choice', and Matt heard all of those words concerning Bogey. Most often, when those words become part of a conversation about an animal, there is little choice. Tears become the only response which can be given and time will not quickly ease the dread which becomes caught somewhere between the heart and the throat. They spent her last hours together as a family, best friends caring for one another as Bogey's running in this world slowed, then stopped.

It is a father's humble honor to stand graveside with his son as the memories find their meaning in a time and place when words cannot be spoken. As much as I wish I could take this pain from him, I know it is the natural part of sharing the journey with another, the risk of opening your heart completely to a friend. The alternative is not nearly as desirable. So, I stood with him this morning and Nancy and I will continue to stand with them all in the days to come.

In our hearts, we know that Bogey is running joyfully healthy in a beautiful meadow chasing rabbits with Licorice and, in our hearts, this gives some comfort. But, truth be told this night, there is something about the mind's eye picture of a little boy sitting with his best friend on the steps of their home that will just take some time to heal in the soul of this young man, our son, for . . . they are only dogs when they are not with you . . . and Bogey will be with him for a long, long time.

Kind of makes me appreciate, all the more, God's love for us all.

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Don