Farewell to a Grand lady

How many tears do you shed when you lose a grand old Lady?  I’ve been crying all day and I know the tears aren’t going to stop any time soon.

This Lady was amazing: faithful, loyal, intelligent, and brave.  She loved to play, she was always at my side the minute I stepped out of the house, and she would (and did several times) tackle a bear when necessary.   

Lady was our huge and beautiful German Shepherd and this morning we had to have her put down.  At age 12 and ½ her body was failing her, she couldn’t walk anymore, and vital systems were shutting down.  To keep her longer because we wanted to avoid the pain of losing her would have been cruel to her.

 Wasn't she beautiful?

Despite her arthritis, despite her deafness, and despite all the other age-related ailments that plagued her over the last year, her greatest joy in life was to be close to us.  And we loved her, even when she chewed the lattice off the brand new deck years ago, even when she pestered us for ear rubs by thrusting her big head into our laps when we were sitting outside, even when I couldn’t have flower pots on the patio because she was addicted to snapping up and eating wasps and bees.  We just loved her.

 This morning I got to hold her head one last time, gaze into her eyes, and give her one more ear rub while the vet did what she had to do.  Then it was just Lady and I in that cold, impersonal room.  Her heart had already stopped but I couldn’t bear to leave her right away, so I stayed and whispered over and over what a good dog she is and how much we love her until the final muscle twitches stopped.

Then I walked out of the clinic, alone, with her leash and collar dangling empty from my hand.

A DOG FOR JESUS

I wish someone had given Jesus a dog

As loyal and loving as mine

To sleep by His manger and gaze in His eyes

And adore Him for being divine.

As our Lord grew to manhood His faithful dog

Would have followed Him all through the day

While He preached to the crowds and made the sick well

And knelt in the garden to pray.

It is sad to remember that Christ went away

To face death alone and apart

With no tender dog following close behind

To comfort its Master's Heart.

And when Jesus rose on that Easter morn

How happy He would have been

As His dog kissed His hands and barked its delight

For The One who died for all men.

Well, the Lord has a dog now, I just sent Him mine

The old pal so dear to me

And I smile through my tears on this first day alone

Knowing they're in eternity.

(Written By: Rudyard Kipling)

I’ll see you again, my beautiful Lady-dog.  Bye for now.

Are You Ready for Christmas?

Are you ready for Christmas yet?  The people who ask me that on a regular basis lately are quite obviously referring to the shopping, wrapping, baking, decorating, and cleaning that seem to have become prerequisites for Christmas Day celebrations.

 

Of course, there's nothing wrong with lovely decor items like this one.  I'm actually rather fond of wreaths, centerpieces, decorated Christmas trees, and most especially giving gifts.

But I find myself thinking this year, that the best answer to the question would be, "Of course, I'm always ready for Christmas."  If Christmas is a celebration to acknowledge the coming of Christ to transform our lives and restore us to right relationship with God, then why wouldn't we always be ready, always be awaiting the arrival of the most special guest our homes and hearts will ever see?

In the midst of the hustle and bustle we call "getting ready for Christmas" let's leave a space for recognizing that, if we believe in the reason for the season, then we are already finished getting ready.  The only thing that needs to be done is to ready my heart and Jesus will do that, too, if we let Him.

Moonlight

 One of the few advantages to my periodic bouts of insomnia is the chance to experience the night hours in my forested yard.  Restless with unexplainable energy but also fatigue, and a longing for sleep, I often wander from window to window in the loneliest and darkest hours of the night.  I’m seeking solace and perhaps a little company from the denizens of the night to ease my loneliness, as all my human companions snuggle deeper into their pillows and indulge in delicious sleep.

Many nights the possessive, impenetrable darkness outside my windows stubbornly hides Nature’s midnight secrets away, greedily keeping them for its eyes only.  Then my aching eyes are brought up short against the inky blackness and I see nothing but my weary self, reflected in the windowpane by the lone lamp I turned on in the living room.

But some nights are a different story, when the rays of a full moon focused on the nighttime landscape handily defeat the jealous darkness.  A winter’s moonlit night, almost as bright as daytime, is pure and refreshing revelation. Nature’s nighttime loveliness is arrayed before me; I delight in its unique beauty and draw rest for my spirit from its quiet serenity. 

 Then I feel kinship even with the trees, who stand watching the progress of the night, tall and lonely sentinels guarding a frozen, isolated world, and I’m grateful for their protection.  Their long shadows stretch to encompass as much of the yard as possible and lie in poignant contrast to the new snow sparkling in the moonlight.  The trees reassure me that I’m not as alone as I feel in my sleeplessness and that all is as it should be, as well as it can be in the absence of sunlight.

On occasion the dark sweep of a huge wing crosses my silvery landscape and I know the Great Grey owl I heard earlier as I worked at my desk is now on the move, no doubt striking terror into the tiny hearts of nocturnal rodents scampering about under fallen trees and naked shrubs that offer scant protection against the sharp eyes of the predator.  But I welcome the owl and his nocturnal routine, for his activity normalizes my wakeful nights and makes me feel less of an aberration of Nature but merely another of God’s creatures, unable to sleep.