by M. R. Wells
Bella gave Ryan the impression that she liked him, so asking her out seemed like a natural next step. When she said she’d love to go, he wanted to jump up and down and shout for joy. But he kept his cool. He suggested going to a restaurant and movie—both of her choice. She happily agreed, and the date was set.
On the big night, Ryan was a bundle of excitement and nerves. Bella had told him where she lived and how to get there. Her home was on the other side of town from his, in a poorer community. The house was on a corner lot. The street was filled with children playing a wild game of kickball.
Ryan parked his car on a side street, away from the children, and walked up the steps to the wraparound front porch. He stopped to straighten his clothes and brush his hair. He had not yet met her parents and desperately wanted to make a good impression. Right about then, a growling pit bull rounded the corner of the house and started after him. He had no time to think. He dashed in the front door and slammed it shut behind him.
Ryan stood with his back to the wall, breathing heavily. He’d been too panicked to consider that he had just barged into someone’s home unannounced. He saw three people heading toward him to confront him. First was a man who appeared to be Bella’s father. Right behind was an older fellow—likely Bella’s granddad. Bringing up the rear was a young boy. Ryan figured him to be the little brother she had talked so much about. But where was Bella?
Ryan tried to introduce himself. The two men regarded him with a confused and somewhat angry stare. The little boy said his name was Raul and asked why Ryan was in their home. Ryan explained that he’d come to pick up Bella for a date. Raul translated these words for his still rather hostile-looking elders.
At last, the two men broke into huge smiles. Then they started howling with laughter, and Raul joined in. They shook Ryan’s hand and Raul revealed that his sister hadn’t told any of them about her date. She had gone next door to borrow a cup of sugar for her mom and would return shortly.
Once everyone had settled down, Ryan asked about the huge pit bull who had growled at him. He explained that the dog was the reason for his rapid, unexpected entrance into their home. Was the dog rabid or just a crazy wild animal?
After Raul translated this, all three of them guffawed again—even more loudly than before. Raul explained that the dog, Diablo, was their pet. He was really a very sweet dog, but he was protective of his family. They had rescued him from the desert when he was just a puppy. He’d been left there to fend for himself. Passersby had thrown things at him. He’d probably had to fight for food and become aggressive as a way of survival. When Bella’s family found him he was hungry and tired and had a cut on his forehead.
They had caught the needy stray and brought him to their home. They’d taken care of him, fed him well, and loved him. At first he’d had a hard time responding positively. His nasty growl made them think of Satan, so they named him Diablo. They refused to give up on their devil dog. After a few weeks, he seemed to realize that love was better than hate. He accepted his new family and neighborhood. Since he was a devil no longer they considered changing his name, but he already knew it, so they left it.
Ryan feared Diablo’s name still fit him rather well. When Bella’s family let him in, Ryan stood frozen as Diablo slowly circled. Then Ryan warily stuck out his hand. To his great relief, Diablo licked it, and everyone laughed once more. Bella returned and apologized for not being there when Ryan arrived. The two went off for a wonderful evening—Ryan armed with a brand new story to tell her over dinner.
Human love healed Diablo’s past hurts so he was a devil dog no longer. How much more can God’s love heal and free us! Jesus’s life and ministry are powerful proof of this. In some cases, He cast out literal demons, as with the Gerasene man who had multiple evil spirits (Mark 5:1-13). In other cases, His love healed and freed people from the “devils” of sin, guilt, shame, rejection, and hurt.
Diablo didn’t stop being a devil dog the moment he was loved and cared for. It took time. But Bella’s family stuck with him, and in the end, love conquered. Are there Diablos in your life who God is calling you to stick with and love until their devils are conquered too?
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love (1 Corinthians 13:13).
Consider This:
In what areas of your life have you been a growler, like Diablo? What underlying pain may have triggered this? How has God’s love helped to free and transform you? How could your experience encourage someone else?
A Different Kind of Leash
God’s Love Shows Restraint
Conscience whispers, but interest screams aloud.
JEAN ANTOINE PETIT-SENN
Daisy had been praying for a dog—not just any dog, but a dog God had picked out for her. So when a friend called to say her son had rescued an abused stray from a tough inner-city neighborhood, Daisy was intrigued. Then she saw the dog. She was greasy, flea-infested, covered with sores, had a cut nose, and her hair was falling out. A bath and a prayer later, Daisy decided to keep this scrappy street survivor—and named her Harriet.
Daisy soon took Harriet to meet her friend’s dogs. On more than one occasion, Harriet muscled in and scavenged any food left in her host dogs’ bowls. When the other dogs rightfully tried to reclaim their food, Harriet turned “wolf” and backed them off with snarls and bared fangs. Daisy commanded Harriet to stop, but Harriet couldn’t restrain herself. She continued to gulp down the food, like she did on the streets, all the while keeping an aggressive eye on her more mannered peers. Daisy began to keep Harriet tightly leashed in the presence of other dogs. Harriet was off the street, but the street was still in Harriet.
Within the month, Harriet gave Daisy another surprise. This dog was pregnant, and in due time gave birth to a litter of five. Daisy was amazed to see this street dog with attitude suddenly turn mother, patiently allowing her hungry pups to suckle to their hearts’ delight. When the little ones were old enough to be weaned off milk, Daisy spread out five bowls filled with puppy chow. She made sure each pup had its own spot, then proudly watched as they ate their first solid meal. But what caught Daisy’s attention was Harriet’s unusual behavior. She was sitting calmly to the side, watching her puppies gobble down their food. Normally, the sight of another dog dining would transform Harriet into a food-stealing bully. But Harriet restrained herself, leashed herself, and waited until her puppies finished their meal. Then and only then did she get up to eat from her own bowl. Daisy was impressed. Because of the special bond between mother and child, Harriet was able to restrain her selfish nature and put the needs and welfare of her pups ahead of her own. Daisy wound up keeping one of the puppies, a female named Cinco. To this day, Harriet restrains her old nature and allows her daughter Cinco to eat in peace.
Human parents are also called upon to exercise self-control. When it comes to playing games or sports with a young child, any mom or dad will tell you it often becomes an exercise in restraint.
When our son Skye was five, we put up a mini-basketball backboard in the house. It was mounted on the door, about six feet off the floor. This was almost double Skye’s height and it was very challenging for him to make a basket—especially when he was playing against me. I could slam dunk at will and block any shot he could throw up. If I’d gone all out against my young son, I could easily have demolished him—and his spirit—scoring thousands to his zero. But because he was my son, because of our father-son bond, I restrained myself—something I would not have done if playing against someone my own size. With Skye, I missed shots. I slipped and fell so he could run circles around me. I pretended to block. I allowed him to double-dribble, to foul me, even tackle me and pull me down, all without penalty. Because I loved this little guy, I voluntarily leashed my powers and my competitive nature so he could have fun, enjoy the game, and feel good about winning.
A mother dog restrains her desire to eat first in deference to her pups. A human father restrains his superior athleti
c powers when playing basketball against his five-year-old son. If natural love has the power to inspire such restraint, what restraint might supernatural love inspire?
The Bible tells us. In the most amazing act of restraint in the history of the universe, the Son of God restrained His awesome divine power and went to the cross in obedience to His Father’s will. He told His tormenters in Matthew 26:53, “Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels?”
God loved the world so much that He gave His only Son, who showed the ultimate restraint—so we could have the ultimate gift of eternal life.
He does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him (Psalm 103:10-11).
Consider This:
Have you ever felt God showing restraint toward you when you didn’t deserve it? How did it encourage you? How did it deepen your relationship with Him? Is God calling you to show loving restraint toward someone in your life right now? What would that look like?
Stuart’s Heart Vision Goggles
It’s What’s Inside That Counts
And now here is my secret, a very simple secret;
it is only with the heart that one can see rightly,
what is essential is invisible to the eye.
ANTOINE DE SAINT-EXUPÉRY
I think I should hire Stuart to help me choose my friends. He seems to have a special instinct about people. It’s as if he’s got heart vision goggles that help him look past their outer appearance to their true inner selves.
Stuart is great at telling us which folks he does or doesn’t like. If he’s uncomfortable with whoever is coming into our home, he makes a big deal of barking and acting uneasy. If we allow them in anyway, he will keep barking at them or stick close to us and go into protective mode.
One time a salesman came to my door and wanted to sell me a cleaning product I had never heard of before. He showed me what it could do by using it to clean my front porch table. I was curious to find out more and he seemed safe enough, so I let him in. Stuart was very unhappy about this. He would not settle down. I tried to make him go outdoors, but he would have none of it. He stayed right by my side the whole time the salesman was there. Every time the man would get close to me in the course of showing his wares, Stuart would growl at him. The man seemed harmless to me, but later on in the day I noticed that the little calculator I had left on the porch table was gone. Maybe Stuart knew more than I did.
Stuart is also quick to let us know when he likes someone. He welcomes the visitor with bright eyes and happy woofs. This is what he did the first time our daughter Christy brought a very special young man named Steven home to meet us—a young man who would become her husband.
Naturally, Steven was somewhat nervous to meet Christy’s parents. Little did he know that he would first be vetted by our dog. Stuart greeted Christy and then checked out her beau. Stuart’s calm, sweet spirit seemed to shout, “This guy can stay!” As Steven walked through the entry into our living room, Stuart barked happily, inviting his new friend—well, actually begging him!—to go outside and play ball. We all headed into the backyard and the bonding began. Stuart stuck close to Steven for the rest of the evening, sitting beside him, smiling his goofy corgi smile.
To the world, Steven is a wonderful young man with a heart of gold. Still, he’s not royalty or a rock star. Steven has celebrity status in Stuart’s eyes, however. These days, Steven can’t come into our home without going straight to the backyard to join Stuart in a game of ball. When they come back in, Stuart sits right beside him. I’ve never seen him take to anyone as fast as he did Steven. I’m sure he also may have sensed that Christy loved him, and that helped his decision. But even so, his unconditional love surprised us because it was so fast and easy. Our son, John, told Steven he had never seen Stuart act like that. Even John himself had not gotten Stuart’s doggie stamp of approval as quickly as Steven did.
Stuart’s sense of people is helpful, but he’s still just a dog. God can help us infinitely more. Our all-knowing Lord sees exactly what’s in people’s hearts. Jesus demonstrated this during His earthly ministry. There were religious leaders in His day who looked fabulous on the outside, but Jesus called them “whitewashed tombs.” He wasn’t fooled by their outward charade of righteousness. He knew their hearts weren’t right and they needed to confess their sin and come to Him for forgiveness. There were also people who, like Steven, were either quite normal-looking on the outside or looked downright “yucky” to the religious mucky-mucks. But Jesus knew their hearts were hungry for Him. He welcomed those folks, like Stuart welcomed Steven, and they became devoted followers of His. Some even made the “who’s who” of famous biblical figures.
I prayed for Christy’s husband all her life. When she brought Steven home, I felt confident that God had brought them together. Stuart didn’t know this, but it was fun to get his confirmation. God is eager to give wisdom and discernment to all His children, if we will just ask. Will you let Him put His heart vision goggles on you?
Bring to an end the violence of the wicked and make the righteous secure—you, the righteous God who probes minds and hearts (Psalm 7:9).
Consider This:
Has a beloved pet’s heart vision goggles ever saved you from trouble? What happened? How might you have been deceived, and why? What did you learn that might make you wiser next time? How has God’s guidance regarding people saved you from missteps?
Anything but His Toes
God Cares About Our Fears
To suffering there is a limit; to fearing, none.
SIR FRANCIS BACON
Willie the dog has a phobia. It’s not your normal doggie fear. He doesn’t dread loud sounds or vet visits. He doesn’t cringe when he’s left home alone. No, this 60-pound Hungarian vizsla is overcome with terror by the sight of a human hand holding a dreaded toenail clipper.
He’s been this way since my cousin Elly first adopted him at the age of 12 weeks. This was family number two for Willie. His first adoption was on September 11, 2001—really. To top it off, his breeder lived about five miles from the Pennsylvania site where one of the hijacked planes went down. It is tempting to think 9/11 might have played into Willie’s oddball fear…but it isn’t likely.
Willie wound up with Elly because his first family wanted to return him when they learned he had only one testicle. His breeder wouldn’t take him back, and Willie landed in vizsla rescue. Elly and her husband, Jim, had recently lost both their own vizslas—one to old age, the other to illness. Someone called and told them about Willie. They grabbed him.
Willie’s new humans noticed his toenail-clipping phobia right away. They speculate it was triggered by some puppyhood trauma. Elly recalls that his dewclaws weren’t well clipped. But those were on his front feet, and his back feet are his major Achilles heel.
Elly told me Willie is extremely protective of his feet. He doesn’t like them touched—especially his back ones. If she tries, he will tuck them under so she can’t get to them. If you have a toenail clipper in your hand, his fear skyrockets. If he can, he launches through the doggie door and flees to the yard. If he’s on a table to be groomed, he tries to throw himself off. He won’t ever attempt to bite the hand that tries to clip his nails, but he’ll do almost anything else to get away. Elly’s main fear is that one day he’ll hurt himself in his frantic struggles to escape.
Elly and Jim can’t ask Willie why toenail-clipping makes him go berserk. But in the ten years they’ve had him, they’ve tried everything else. They’ve bought various kinds of clippers. They’ve tried an alternate nail-clipping tool. They’ve left clippers around the house so their dog would get used to seeing them. He could handle clippers on a stand, but not in a hand. He’d even go ballistic if those clippers were being used on his doggie sister, Bonnie.
Finally, Elly threw in the towel and decided to let he
r vet’s techs trim Willie’s toenails. Last time, it took two of them. One distracted Willie and fed him cookies while the other lifted one foot at a time and somehow managed the deed. Not clipping Willie’s nails isn’t an option because if they get too long, Willie might slip on Elly’s hardwood floors. But she’s already planning to have his nails done when his teeth are cleaned. He’ll be put under anesthesia for the dental work, and he’ll never know his toenails were part of the package.
Willie’s persistent toenail-clipping phobia got me thinking about my own fears—specifically my fear of death. Like Willie, I’ve had this fear since I was very young. I can remember being about four years of age and dreading turning five, because I was a year closer to dying. Now that I’ve come to faith in Christ, I have the promise of eternal life to temper that fear—but I can’t say it’s gone. One of the ways it expresses itself these days is through another fear. I’m scared to be put completely out with anesthesia—because I might not wake up.
I’m at an age where my doctor would like me to get a colonoscopy. I’ve put it off partly due to this concern. When I had tooth implant surgery, I opted for a type of sedation that let me remain partially awake. When I faced arthroscopic knee surgery earlier this year, I wanted to do the same thing—but God had other plans.
I was told I could be awake for the surgery itself and watch. What I wasn’t clear about until I was lying in the surgery center was that I would be knocked out initially. My anesthesiologist warned me I would not want to be awake when they gave me the shot to numb my knee. Hmm…virtually certain major pain versus phobia about highly unlikely death? I didn’t insist.
