This weekend I begrudgingly took Daisy (the beleaguered Beagle) along with me for my morning walk. My morning walks are often times I set aside for reflection and prayer, and Daisy's wandering nose often provokes frustration for me. As I felt anger rise in my heart toward her, I began to wonder if my anger was symbolic. I began to wonder if I was really angry about something else, and I was just taking it out on the dog (which is easy to do).
I began to reflect on the fact that Daisy is not the dog we would have chosen. I would trade her in a second for a golden retriever (not proud of this fact here, folks). I am annoyed and angry that the limits on our life dictate that we have to have a dog that is a Beagle or smaller. So, that means either a rat dog or an annoying dog. We opted for the annoying, neurotic dog, because I can't stand small dogs that bark all the time.
My anger is really towards God, and the fact that the financial consequences of following his will have left us poor enough to never (?) own a house where we could pick our own dog(s). I began to feel sorrow for the way I perceived and treated Daisy and began to instantly choose gentleness in my approach with her. She can't help her nose! I would be heartbroken to lose her!
Being gentle with Daisy felt like surrender to my Father, who in turn expects me to be gentle toward myself and my own annoying weaknesses and sins.
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