Tag Archives: Dogs

A Walk in the Cornfields

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image001The end of the rope was near. Involved in several projects that were zapping my strength instead of replenishing it, I knew a break was necessary despite some very pressing deadlines. I was smack dab in the middle – the uncomfortable in between of roaring pressure and endless tasks. Working inside when I longed to be outdoors was tough, especially when summer fades into autumn. The crispness in the air was lovely, but unfortunately also a reminder these warm, sunny days luring me outside were limited in number.

I needed to pull back to sit down and relax on the inside. So I grabbed my dog, got in the car and headed north to walk in the cornfields of the numerous farms in the area. If you are in northern Illinois, it seemed like an appropriate way of taking a breather without shrinking back.

You can embrace quiet without giving in. You can say no to the hustle of your projects, of your life and still be saying yes in obedience. Choosing relaxation does not mean shutting down or worse, giving up. Chasing a still moment doesn’t mean your work has to suffer or you’ll miss an opportunity. Finding a way of putting up a Do Not Disturb sign is actually a gift to your soul.

Intentionally scheduling a quiet break when your soul has had enough and your body is exhausted is recognizing your limits. Society glorifies busy, but busyness can actually harm your relationship with God and others. Sometimes we just need the quiet to wrestle with our thoughts, to bathe in God’s love telling us we are brave, strong and beautiful. And to silently give control back to the One who always had it, God.

Frustration, anger and loneliness can cause tension when all you see are the piles, projects and programs and not the heart of God. Exodus 14:14 tells us, “The Lord will fight for you; you only need to be still.” No matter how squeezed you feel, God can breathe in something new. He can tend to whatever wounds bruise your soul.

In the hushed quiet of cornstalks gently waving in the breeze, I recognized those things in my life that made my life worth living, my story worth telling. In a place of your own choosing, you also can find the same confidence, courage and dignity.

We must work. We must complete our projects. We must finish those daily checklists. But it is not normal to live so hurried. Our doing should never explain our being. When we are so busy doing, we tend to lose sight of all we are.

Yes, I got behind a little during my day on the farm. Yes, I felt the pressure of not pushing myself further. But the hushed cathedral of cornfields stretching as far as the eye could see brought a healing. As I walked among the silence, the pressure inside started to lessen and eventually turned to sweet relief. I didn’t know how much I craved the silence until all the noise disappeared. Then I was happy I had listened to the pull inside my heart to take the day and find a quieter place; a place that was washed with the presence of God.

The day brought radiance to my soul. That alone felt so good. Sometimes we need to savor the silence, to embrace rest and chose the unhurried path. Occasionally running the race He has called us to do means slowing down, embracing the silence and snuggling close to God. Only then can we unwind with relief.

Airport

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78531-You-Are-Special-WordsAs a puppy, Lily was enrolled in an obedience class. Our trainer there told us that an adult German Shepherd has about the same vocabulary as a three-year-old child. Really? That fact seemed impressive to a non-mother like myself.

Now that Lily is an adult dog, I’ve never counted the number of words she knows. But I will say there are some surprising ones in her collection. Not just the usual sit, stay, come; she knows inside, outside, upstairs, bowl, going, Bucky (a much loved plush toy) and many others. One of her favorites is airport.

Not that she knows an airport is a place for planes. Lily recognizes that word means the door to the silver chariot (car in Lily-speak) will open and she’ll be transported to meet my husband, Richard. Smart dog that she is, she knows the exact exit to the airport and once we reach the roadway circling it, she’ll intently scan the crowds to find him. Her excited whining in the back seat alerts me when Lily has spotted him. Once Richard opens the car door, she practically jumps in his arms, her tail wagging so rapidly its rotations would humiliate most helicopters.

Words matter. Not just to a dog, but to us humans. Who among us doesn’t need more words of praise, acceptance, encouragement? Words literally have the power to breathe life into our souls. But they can also damage. The old adage says, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” Won’t hurt me? Don’t you carry painful memories of a hurtful words spoken to you from childhood or your teenage years?

1 Corinthians 13:1 states, “If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.” The truth is we need others to gently, softly, speak words of love into our lives. When life is harsh or even when it isn’t, we crave words that lift us up, deliver strength and bring healing to our fragile hearts.

So I wonder if all of us need more words of encouragement, why don’t we speak them more often? Why do we let our words drip with the bitterness of judgment, disapproval, coldness? Words can change the world because they have the power to transform the hearer’s soul – positively or negatively. It is our choice. I believe, when we use our words to bring a smile to another, the heart of God smiles also.

So let’s make today the day we feed the hunger in our souls for love by speaking love into the lives of others. Let’s make every day one where we use our words to build others up, offer grace, convey understanding, promote acceptance.

In your own way, in your own words, you can transform the world.

The Incident at the Dog Park

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I’ve always wondered if I were threatened bodily harm whether Lily, my dog, would protect me. Oh, I flippantly tell everyone, “No one will bother me with Lily around.” Honestly, who would want to tangle with a 4 year old, 76 pound German Shepherd? But what would she do if someone did bother me? She’s never been trained in protection. Would her natural instincts and loyalty take over?

One idyllic afternoon in the doggie park that question was answered forever. While I read a book in the shade, Lily was whooping it up with her canine friends. None of them paid much attention when a white German Shepherd entered the park or even while the dog and its owners made their way to a bench near mine. As the couple seated themselves, they explained to me their dog, Lexi, had been roughed up during some recent trips to the park, so they temporarily stopped coming. After a brief hiatus, this was their first trip back to get Lexi re-acclimated.

Lily, ever the amicable peacemaking dog, ambled over to check Lexi out. My dog’s temperament must have soothed Lexi’s fears for soon the two of them were running as a pair never venturing more than 30 feet away from her owners and me. Watching Lexi, a white German Shepherd, dart alongside Lily, a black German Shepherd, was captivating as they gracefully danced as a salt-and-pepper team. Weaving in and out, their powerful strides carrying them quickly through the green grass were a perfect picture of canine euphoria.

I’ve been told dogs sense fear. I can now tell you from firsthand experience that is true. After the two German Shepherds were frolicking for a short time, with Lexi feeling a bit more confident, they slowly widened their circles around us. Just enough, unfortunately, to catch the attention of two pit bulls playing at the opposite end of the park. These pit bulls dashed over, separating Lexi from Lily. Extremely frightened, Lexi hotfooted it back to the benches, but for some reason, maybe because I was closest, charged straight towards me, not her owners. Within seconds, a dog fight erupted at my feet.

image001Sensing I was in dire trouble, Lily hustled over to my side. She promptly placed herself between me and the three other dogs. The pack was winnowed down to two as this action gave Lexi the time needed to retreat over to her owners. But the two pit bulls were not backing off; angrily snarling and with great menace lunging towards Lily. I tried to get the attacking dogs to withdraw, but they grew even more antagonistic.

I was scared for my dog, but Lily showed great courage. I’ve never seen her so agitated, so fiercely protective of me. The only way those pit bulls were going to harm me was over her dead body.

Love is not something you earn, but something you receive. It is a benediction, a blessing that is undeserved. We are protected, healed, uplifted when someone shows us love. We were not meant to walk this road alone. Amid the teeth barring, the vicious growling and the loud barking, my little lady turned into a warrior. Her bravery in the middle of this scuffle, despite my concern for her safety, made me proud.

Doesn’t it bring you great joy when a friend becomes your champion? They reach out to you, hold your hand tightly, form a protective barrier around you and gently whisper to you, “You’ll get through this. You’ll find yourself once again in a better place. You’ll laugh again, sleep well once more, find happiness. It will happen. I promise.” They make a sacred space of your grief and mess.

Fortunately, the owner of the pit bulls finally came over and got them to back away. Once they left, Lily, sat down quietly at my feet, still protecting me even though the danger had subsided.

When you sense a crisis, loneliness or pain overtaking the life of someone you care deeply about, take a lesson from Lily’s action during this incident in the doggie park. Bathe them with goodness from God: comfort, protection and the firsthand knowledge that peace will follow seasons of turbulence.