by M. R. Wells
We can take a holier-than-thou stance about how a dumb dog risked his life for a milk jug. But how often do we beings of higher intelligence leap before we look and get hooked going after milk jugs of our own design?
This happened to no less a man of God than the biblical King David. He was out for a leisurely nighttime stroll when he spied something that focused his eyes like a laser beam and caused him to throw caution to the wind: a gorgeous woman taking a bath.
God must have been shouting in His still, small voice, “No, David! Come back!” But David didn’t listen. He only saw what was above the water’s surface—a beautiful woman. He kept swimming toward the object of his desire, oblivious of the hooks that lurked below the bath water…like the fact that Bathsheba was married to another man.
David loved beautiful women—just like Whistle loved milk jugs. And just like Whistle, David ignored his Master and got snagged. He dragged Bathsheba into an affair, and she got pregnant. Hooked and re-hooked, David was pulled down deeper and deeper into the murky depths of sin. He sank as low as having Bathsheba’s husband killed to cover up his guilt. But none of this was hidden from God’s sight. God sent the prophet Nathan to confront David with his wrongdoing and proclaim the grave consequences of David being hooked by his lust and desire.
Nathan told David, “This is what the LORD says: ‘Out of your own household I am going to bring calamity on you. Before your very eyes I will take your wives and give them to one who is close to you, and he will sleep with your wives in broad daylight. You did it in secret, but I will do this thing in broad daylight before all Israel’” (2 Samuel 12:11-12).
As if that wasn’t rough enough, Nathan had more bad news for David: “Because by doing this you have shown utter contempt for the LORD, the son born to you will die” (2 Samuel 12:14).
All this calamity came upon David because he obeyed his passions instead of his Master. David knew adultery, lying, and murder were wrong. But he cast off all caution because he wanted that alluring lady as badly as Whistle wanted that milk jug. Texene knew about the hooks beneath the surface—and so did God.
Truth be told, we all have things that tempt us to leap before we look—things we lust for so much we don’t care what lies beneath the surface. We all have things that make us deaf and blind to God’s Word.
Before you jump out of the boat or veer off the path of righteousness to pursue the object of your desire, wait and check with your Master first. Look in the Word. Pray. Meditate. Listen to His still small voice calling to you.
Whatever your plastic milk jug is—love of money, sex, drugs, that brand new BMW, or even a box of chocolates—look to God before you leap!
My eyes are ever on the LORD, for only he will release my feet from the snare (Psalm 25:15).
Consider This:
What are the milk jugs in your life that tempt you to leap before you look? Have you ever gotten hooked? What were the consequences? Did God deliver you? What did you learn? What would you do differently as a result?
The Making of a Champion
Mentors Matter
Mentor: Someone whose hindsight can become your foresight.
ANONYMOUS
Chris has always loved basset hounds. She usually has two at any given time. Amos is her most recent canine family member. We all had fun getting to know him as a puppy. He made everyone laugh because he was so clumsy. When he walked around the house, he would knock things over. When he jumped on someone’s lap (which wasn’t acceptable behavior), he’d nearly topple the human. But he was so lovable and charming, everyone forgave him.
Amos is also a beautiful basset. Linda, his breeder, wanted to exhibit him at dog shows. When Chris told us, we couldn’t help but laugh. Amos in the ring?
Linda didn’t really think Amos would have much chance of winning, because his conformation took a little longer to mature. But she wanted to try. Linda would show him, but Chris would be involved in his training and be there to love, support, and care for him.
Chris took Amos to American Kennel Club handling classes so he would know what was expected of him. He had to ride in a crate and stay in the crate for long periods of time. He had to learn not to be distracted by all the other people and dogs. He had to let strangers open his mouth and check his teeth. He had to let them run their hands over all parts of his body. He had to stay stacked, which means standing motionless while maintaining the proper basset hound pose. He had to be happy in the ring. These are all things we thought would be impossible for Amos because of his rambunctious behavior.
Basset hounds are shown on a low table. They walk up a ramp to get there. The first time Amos came to one, he walked around the back of the table and jumped on top. Another time, he was walking up the ramp and fell off. This didn’t bother Amos. He just got back on and kept performing.
Amos also had to learn to be groomed. Bassets shed all year long, so they need a lot of brushing to get rid of this dead coat. Bassets’ coats also tend to get stinky and oily, so they require frequent bathing. It’s such a joy to get a 60-pound dog into the bathtub! Bassets also have toenails like bear claws. They need to be clipped short for the feet to look good. Since he was a little puppy, Amos has had his nails ground down with an instrument called a Dremel grinder. He has had to learn to tolerate this too—and he has!
Amos seems to know when he is going to a show. It’s as if he has a sixth sense about this. He has learned how to behave in a hotel. He has learned to ride in an elevator without slinging slobber all over his human fellow passengers. He loves all the attention he gets. But Chris says it hasn’t changed him—he’s still the same goofball he always was. Show dogs like to do the same things other dogs do!
Last March, Amos was in his first show. After several more shows, he became a champion in July. His official title is Champion SoLow Craigwood’s Amos.
No one who knew Amos dreamed that he could be trained to compete, but Amos seems to love the ring. It was even more incredible to see him become a champion in such a short amount of time. But his breeder worked with him to bring him to his best, and his dog mom loved him, took care of him, and cheered him on. With all this mentoring and encouragement, I think maybe it never occurred to Amos that he wasn’t a champion—so he became one!
Mentoring mattered for Amos the dog. It’s crucial for people too. A teenage friend of mine has an incredible talent for making films. Ellen, along with her team, entered the Christian Youth Film Festival of Kern County in 2010. They took first place in almost every category.
Everyone on the team worked hard to do their very best, but the project became a huge part of Ellen. She wrote the film with others, but kept polishing it on her own until it was ready to shoot. She asked adults for advice on all aspects of making the film. She got lots of support from her parents, family, friends, and her filmmaking team—but she also always gave God the glory.
When it was time to submit the film, I remember how nervous she was, hoping it would make it to the finals and be shown at the Majestic Fox Theater. That evening, she and her team would barely get back in their seats from receiving an award when their names were called again. Every time, Ellen thanked the Lord. That night, with the support and mentoring of so many who loved her, Ellen was a champion—just like Amos!
Amos and Ellen had great potential, but they needed mentoring to grow and flourish. The same was true of a biblical character named Samuel. His mother had dedicated him to God before his birth. When he was still a very young boy, she brought him to serve in God’s temple under Eli, the current high priest. But Samuel did not yet know God personally.
One night Samuel was sleeping and he heard someone calling him (1 Samuel 3). He assumed it was Eli and went to him. But Eli said he hadn’t called for the boy. When Samuel lay down, he heard the voice again. Once again, Eli denied he had called. But when it happened a third time, Eli realized God was calling Samuel. He told Samuel how to respond. God then gave Samuel his first prophecy—a judgment against Eli and his family. W
hen Samuel was afraid to tell Eli, the old priest urged Samuel to reveal it and not hide anything. Though the Bible tells us Eli had his failings, he mentored Samuel well in this instance. God continued to be with Samuel and he grew up to be one of Israel’s great prophets.
I believe God gave each of us special gifts and abilities. But to develop them, we need mentoring from Him and others. If we are willing to be mentored, and to mentor in return, we can all be champions for Him!
As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. “Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will send you out to fish for people.” At once they left their nets and followed him (Matthew 4:18-20).
Consider This:
Have you had special people in your life to mentor you and help you grow? How did they encourage and guide you? What impact did it have? Who might you encourage and mentor to become a champion?
Playpen Theology
God Wants Our Hearts
There can only be two basic loves…the love of
God unto the forgetfulness of self, or the love of
self unto the forgetfulness and denial of God.
ST. AUGUSTINE
My new puppy is proof that you can’t judge the strength of a dog’s will by its size. Marley is tiny, but his resolve is huge. He is also just clever enough to get his way despite my best efforts…at least until I find him out!
That’s just what happened with Marley’s playpen. I got it so he would have a protected place to play. He would be safely contained inside, but have more room to romp around than if I crated him when I couldn’t watch him. I found a great model that could be folded up and put in a carrying bag. It was lightweight and had a zip-on top. This top and the pen’s sides were mesh, so Marley could get plenty of ventilation and enjoy looking at the outside world. The playpen’s floor also seemed ideal. It was made of a washable material and was secured in place at various points with Velcro. I loved that it could be removed for cleaning.
I didn’t realize it could be removed for other purposes as well… and not just by a human.
One evening shortly after setting up this new puppy play area in my office, I decided to leave Marley in his pen while I got dinner. When I returned, he was loose in the room. I was stunned. At first, I wondered if I’d simply forgotten to contain him. But I soon realized what had happened. Marley had tugged at the pen’s floor, pulled it partway off its Velcro fasteners, and wriggled under the lightweight frame to escape.
In the days that followed, I tried sticking that floor piece down more firmly, but he kept pulling it up and getting out. I think he knew I didn’t care for his Houdini antics. He didn’t break out when I was watching. But every time I was gone for a while, my little Marley did it his way.
Finally, I had an idea. I flipped the playpen upside down so the zippered-on top was his new floor. I laid the old floor piece over the mesh for extra padding. Marley could no longer escape. Victory was mine—or was it?
Marley’s little body had been captured. His heart was a different matter. He kept pawing at the old floor piece, flipping it back. He got up on his little hind legs and chewed at the pen’s upper rim. Clearly, Marley’s heart remained outside the playpen even if his body couldn’t get there.
Like my dog, I’ve also had times when my heart was outside the playpen. One such period followed my father’s death. I was an only child, and I feared my mother would latch on to me too tightly now that her husband of forty years was gone. I was young, single, and selfish. I was also guilt-ridden that I hadn’t spent more time with Dad in his last months on this earth. Being with Mom and seeing her pain was like twisting a knife in that guilt wound. For all those reasons, I chafed at being in my mother’s company and home.
All these years later, I’m ashamed of how I acted then. I spent as little time at Mom’s house as I could. Finally, on one visit, I came down with some sort of inner ear problem and got vertigo. It was nothing serious, but I couldn’t leave when I had planned. I had to wait till the problem subsided and I could safely drive the 90 miles back to my LA home.
In playpen theology terms, I believe God was trying to contain me for my good, and Mom’s. I considered being with Mom a playpen I wanted to flee. I thought it might curtail my freedom, just as Marley felt his playpen did all those decades later. God, however, was trying to place me in a very different playpen—for Mom’s good and my blessing. That playpen was the fifth of God’s Ten Commandments: “Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you” (Exodus 20:12).
By avoiding spending time with Mom, I had been refusing to stay in that playpen. Finally, God flipped it upside down. I was forced to remain with her an extra day or two. I did not respond well. I pawed at the flooring and chewed at the pen’s rim by expressing my frustration. Mom was rightfully hurt that I was so eager to leave. Rather than surrender my heart to the Lord and minister to the mother who needed me so badly, all I wanted to do was escape.
Mom was grieved, but she couldn’t force my heart into the playpen any more than I could force Marley’s. God could—but He chose to give us free will. Thankfully, He kept working on my heart. In later years, Mom and I drew much closer. But at the time, she took no joy in my extended visit with her, because she knew I didn’t want to be there.
What Mom desired was for me to freely give my heart to her. That is also what God wants from us. Our Creator who made us knows that forced love isn’t love at all. That’s why we must choose to receive Him and embrace the playpens He has given us to protect and bless us. Jesus said, “Whoever has my commands and keeps them is the one who loves me” (John 14:21). God’s commands are spiritual playpens meant to keep us safe from harm and accomplish His kingdom purposes. But simply going through the motions isn’t enough. We must enter in willingly and love Him with our whole being.
I wrote the first draft of this story many weeks ago. As I sit tweaking it, Marley is playing on the floor. I’ve had him five months, and as he grows in his trust and love for me, he wants more and more to please me.
Over time, my trust and love for God have grown too. I’ve seen how His desires for me are for my good. And I’ve realized there is no better place to be than joyfully, willingly dwelling in the playpen of His loving care.
And now, Israel, what does the LORD your God ask of you but to fear the LORD your God, to walk in obedience to him, to love him, to serve the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul, and to observe the LORD’s commands and decrees that I am giving you today for your own good? (Deuteronomy 10:12-13).
Consider This:
When was your heart last outside the playpen with respect to God? What did you do? What was the result? Has your heart returned to the playpen? If not, why not? If so, what difference has it made?
Vengeance Is Mine, Sayeth the Dog
Let God Repay
Revenge, at first though sweet,
Bitter ere long back on itself recoils.
JOHN MILTON
When Keith was nine there were two things he treasured above all else. The first was his precious German shepherd/terrier mix named Fred. He was the dog every little boy dreams of—the perfect companion for long summer days, who never complained about getting dirty, who worshipped the very ground his boy walked on. And Keith loved Fred with all his heart.
The second thing Keith treasured above all other material things was the best Christmas gift he ever got from his parents: a 1/32 die-cast model of the coolest car on earth. James Bond’s silver Aston Martin DB5, as featured in the film Goldfinger.
Manufactured by Corgi (not the dog), this imported precision machine was not to be confused with the domestic-made clunkier version of the Bond car. No, Keith’s DB5 was not your common everyday toy car, but a work of art. To call this James Bond iconic miniature a toy car would be something just short of slander. This DB5 was a daydrea
m come true for boys of Keith’s generation. It was a kind of time machine that could transport a nine-year-old into the coolest, most suave and sophisticated adulthood, racing his DB5 through exotic foreign locales, beautiful assistant at his side, fighting evil super-spies with the latest incredible high-tech weapons.
Keith’s DB5 may have been small enough to fit in his hand but it still had all the gadgets that made the Bond car so super cool. It had the extendable tire-slasher knock-off hubcaps. The bullet-proof shield that popped up from the trunk. Automatic rotating license plate. And best of all, his Bond car even had the ejector passenger seat to send the tiny bad guy holding a gun on Keith sailing up, out, and away.
Fred, on the other hand, did not have an elite Aston Martin pedigree. He was just your average domestic mutt. Four legs, a tail, two brown eyes—no special high-tech features. No X-ray vision or Cheetah-fast bionic legs or the ability to hula hoop. If Fred were a car, he’d be a family minivan.
But what Fred lacked in coolness or exoticism he made up for with qualities money can’t buy. Keith told me Fred was the most loyal, loving, and energetic dog in the world—everything a nine-year-old boy could want!
There was a boy who lived around the corner from Keith who would occasionally drop over. Mario wasn’t best friend material, but he was a convenient kid to have around when Keith needed a human playmate. He and Keith would play with the usual action figures and board games or romp around the backyard with Fred.
