Pet Ownership: Frivolous or Fruitful?

Saturday morning graciously afforded me time to sleep in, and oh was it marvelous.  I hopped out of bed feeling well rested and spry, thankful for the weekend and all the promising possibilities ahead.  Light was already trickling in through the windows and the 80-something number and sun icon I saw on the weather forecast scrolled across my mind.  I made my way to the kitchen, surveying the many delicious breakfast options and the time on the oven clock that seemed overly generous.  It was one of those moments you feel as though you are the protagonist in a movie.  Not just any movie, but one with a spunky, upbeat soundtrack.  It was just that good.

While cleaning up from breakfast, I caught movement on our back porch from the corner of my eye.  A deliberate look in that direction revealed an unfamiliar, yet friendly looking dog at the door.  A step toward the door revealed another young, yellow mid-sized dog wagging his tail and finally, nose to the glass, I noticed our neighbors' sweet basset hound Miles in the middle of all the action.  The trio begged for attention, so Jeromy and I stepped outside to treat them to some lunch meat. We were smitten.  Good natured and well groomed, the dogs didn't offer much to dislike.  They were sweet, innocent, and playful.  Thus began Jeromy and I's obsession over the idea of adopting one of our own.

It must have been this movie-like moment combined with my parents' recent dog purchase that has catapulted the discussion.  Should we adopt a dog?  If so, what kind?  How much would it cost?  Could it handle apartment life?  Who will take care of it when we're out of town?  How do the pros and cons stack up?  At some point yesterday I asked Jeromy, "Do you think Jesus would adopt a dog?"

Great question.  If the Son of Man didn't have anywhere to lay His head, how would He have carried a canine around with Him from dusty city to dusty city?  I can't picture it.  But, would Jesus have owned a dog today if He were breathing, walking, talking, and residing in my neighborhood?

On one hand, pets tie you down and assert weight in decisions in which they have no place.  The answer to questions like "Should I go visit my friend two hours away to celebrate her engagement or stop by my grandpa's house on my way home from work?" should never ever be answered based on the preference of the four-legged household member.  I shudder at the thought of being absent to a person that needs a visit, place to stay, or lunch date in order to be present to an animal.  Call me cold hearted; it just doesn't seem right.  The issue of finances presents the same predicament.  I can't imagine saying no to a missionary in order to ensure a yes to purchasing dog food, and at this stage in life, most financial decisions offer either/or, not both/and options.  I want to make the right one.

Just a few minutes ago I heard yet another friendly exchange of two neighbors outside, both out granting their pooches a morning walk and happy to stop and catch up as their respective dogs sniffed each others' butts.  On the other hand, as I was reminded by my neighbors this morning, pets also draw people together by offering an easy (and cute) common denominator.  I might be too busy, rushed, or lazy to stop and make small talk, but if my dog wants to say hello, then so be it.  How funny that God would use a nonverbal creature to cultivate communication and even relationship, but it happens everyday.  I recently visited a friend in Boston and accompanied her on a "day in the life" in her occupation as a nanny.  Part of her responsibilities required daily trips to the dog park, so off to the dog park we went, with our "Chuck It" ball throwing device.  Even in this reputably harsh "fend for yourself and don't smile at me" kind of city, we were approached by another doggie parent out for a midday romp.  An easy and comfortable conversation ensued.  I won't flatter myself: It wasn't me, it was the dog.

So, would Jesus own a dog?  Should I?  I'm weighing the pros and cons, but the friendly exchanges I hear outside my window many mornings paint an alluring picture.  In the end, I know God will use either decision for my good and His glory, but I desire to follow wisely on the front end.  Is pet ownership a wide open door to loving our neighbor or a black hole for valuable energy, money, and time?

 

From top to bottom, Ms. Iowa, Sammy, and Edgar, just a few of the Richmond Animal League adoptees ready and waiting to be adopted.

God's Response Courtesy of Oswald Chambers

May 18-

Behold the fowls of the air...
Consider the lilies of the field.
Matthew 6: 26, 28

Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they simply are! Think of the sea, the air, the sun, the stars and the moon-- all these are, and what a ministration they exert.  So often we may God's designed influence through us by our self-conscious effort to be consistent and useful.  Jesus says that there is only one way to develop spiritually, and that is by concentration on God.  "Do not bother about being of use to others; believe on Me" --pay attention to the Source, and out of you will flow rivers of living water.  We cannot get at the springs of our natural life by common sense, and Jesus is teaching that growth in spiritual life does not depend on our watching it, but on concentration on our Father in heaven.  Our heavenly Father knows the circumstances we are in, and if we keep concentrated on Him we will grow spiritually as the lilies.

The people who influence us most are not those who buttonhole us and talk to us, but those who live their lives like the stars in heaven and the lilies in the field, perfectly simply and unaffectedly.  Those are the lives that mold us. 

If you want to be of use to God, get rightly related to Jesus Christ and He will make you of use unconsciously every minute you live.

 -Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest

 

Who v. What

Aimlessness has snuck in as of late, and frankly I think it spawns from God patiently teaching me to follow HIM, not just His mission, challenging me to love Him more than His mission. 

I don't know how to do that, so my steps recently have become shaky.  His mission is a lot more tangible to me than He is, if separating the two is even a thing that can be done.  I'm convinced that  focusing on who God is more than what He does will grow my intimacy with Him, so I'm trying to learn.  It's easy for me to get swept up in fairy tale-esqe action, but more difficult to stare into the eyes of a God who made me and know that He is God without focusing on the trail of beautiful footprints He leaves.

More on that later, but this lingering question has led me to evaluate who I follow, and how that fanaticism or discipleship arose in me.  Specifically, do I follow people apart from their actions?  Do I follow people simply because of who they are?  I am aware of the movements, ideas, and fashions of thinking that have caught my attention, but I am far less cognizant of the people, if any, who have made me follow solely with the bait of their identity and not their works.  Could someone be so captivating?  If anyone could garner following by identity alone, certainly it is Abba. 

Babies and Mamas

Baby Fever: It's a real thing.

Honestly, I didn't think I would catch it... ever.  I thought one day, in the far far future, Jeromy and I would logically decide it was time, pray for confirmation, take some cute pregnant wife and husband pictures, and out a baby would come.  I was expecting the baby phase to come rationally and timely, like clockwork, but not like a fever.

I especially didn't expect to catch baby fever so soon after getting married, but I did.  A perfect storm of sorts swirled together to make me particularly susceptible to the virus.  There was the healthy component of loving Jeromy so much that I wanted to share that experience with him.  Then there was the unhealthy desire for the next step, essentially a perpetual "what's next?" mentality.

Of course it didn't help that someone in every sphere of life and almost every circle of friends was pregnant or a new parent.  I've sat next to three coworkers who, one at a time, got pregnant, were pregnant, and had or are having beautiful babies.  Two couples in my small group subsequently traveled through the same cycle while one of my peer volunteers at CHAT is pregnant now.  Weekly baby bump checks are commonplace.  We brought dinner to a couple of our neighborhood friends that are new parents just this Wednesday.  Every time I turn around at church there is a pregnant belly or a wide-eyed newborn rocking in the back with his mom.

It seems absolutely ridiculous, but, I want a baby.  I want to be a mom.  Unless God throws a curve ball at us, I know now is not the best time.  I also know that being a mom takes a LOT of selflessness and lately I've been convicted of a LOT of selfishness.  I like choosing when to serve.  I like my space.  I like rest.  I like freedom.  I like my routine.  I like weekend adventures.  I like sleeping in.  For that matter, I like sleeping.  I like alone time with my husband.  I like alone time with God.  I like visiting friends in fun places.

All that to say, realizing the many areas that need growth in order for me to be a good mom calms the baby fever.  It also reminds me of the awesome moms Jeromy and I have and the pattern of selfless sacrifice they have made to rear and raise us.  Happy Mother's Day Mom, and to all the others that chose the selfless way.

Limits and Possibilities

I have arrived at a noteworthy point of life- the one in which I admittedly have traded in the hope of doing certain things that I read about in exchange for the reality of reading about certain things I know I will never do.

Outside magazine details many of these experiences for me.  If you have ever perused the contents of this magazine, you know what I'm talking about.  Outrageous, adventurous, and innovative, it's feature stories and cover studs initially inspire, then, as the storyline grows more captivating, inevitably remind me of the feats officially beyond the reach of my human hands.

So, here's to acceptance- both acceptance of limits as well as possibilities.  I'm noting some growth areas in myself as I journey forward past the idealism of university life.  Two years out, I can acknowledge that college lent it's ears mostly to possibility while turning a blind eye to limits.  Conversely, life gives ear to limits as well as possibilities.  I am only in my mid-20s, but I accept that limits exist for me, even now and as immaterial as they may be. 

It's officially the first time I've carefully considered and accepted the inescapable limits that accompany aging, so this post is meant to celebrate that milestone. 

Courtesy of outsideonline.com, here's a list of adventurous and skillful endeavors I will read about, but never do:

-chase down an antelope on the plains of New Mexico
-receive an Olympic gold medal
-travel the world on an international surfing tour
-run a marathon under four hours, let alone under two
-climb anything other than a carefully monitored climbing wall
-swim the English Channel
-earn the occupation of a SeaWorld trainer
-complete a full U.S. distance triathlon

The world may not be my oyster in the same way it seemed growing up, but hopeful alternatives to those I read of are within reach.  I will denote these "diet adventures," and have included at least the first few on my list of realistic possibilities below:
 
-sprint a 400 in less than 70 seconds again
-rent a surfboard, maybe purchase a lesson, and give it a try on timid VA Beach waves
-run a full marathon
-embark on the occasional camping adventure with my kids one day
-learn a new outdoor hobby and enjoy it with others
-run 1,000 miles in one year
-venture out in an African safari
-cycle from Richmond to Williamsburg on the Virginia Capital Trail
 
Adventurous?  Mildly. Realistic? Certainly.
 
It's time to come to terms with my limits and embrace possibilities.

“Only Boring People Get Bored"

Or so said my driver’s education teacher sophomore year of high school. Somehow, along with the progressive “10 and 2” steering wheel handling methodology, this idea has stuck with me for a decade now. It makes sense, doesn’t it? Generally speaking, boredom can be circumvented, but willingness and creativity on the part of the individual are the required ingredients.

We all can plow right through boredom by creating or unearthing interesting events, circumstances, thoughts, conversations, etc. when none are conveniently at hand. You choose to either passively accept boredom or actively change it. My choice reflects something about me. It reflects my own self concept, feelings of self efficacy, as well as the way I interact with the world. Do I expect entertainment, change, novelty, growth, and other “newness” to simply arrive on my lap? Or, conversely, am I a force to be reckoned with that seeks and discovers those things among the seemingly commonplace? As members of the Information Age, replacing boredom with learning and discovery can be as easy as a few clicks of a mouse and as time consuming as saying your ABCs.

So recently when the word “boring” came out of my mouth as a descriptor of my spiritual life in this season, red flags of self efficacy waved across my mind. The problem is not found extrinsically with our very adventurous and creative God, as I like to selfishly assume, but with me. Only boring people get bored. Only boring people get bored living as children of a beautiful and mysterious Father.

I’ve developed some theories on when this boredom snuck in and via what means, but the point is that only a boring person would stop there. “Behold, I make all things new,” God says. There are ebbs and flows of activity and quiet contentment, but walking with God was never meant to be boring. Heeding the advice of my husband, I’ve resolved to battle the boredom by adding some risk and diversity to my spiritual rhythms.


The most immediate ideas revolved around prayer:


1) Embarking on prayer walks to keep my mind alert and my heart turned toward others


2) Convening with neighbors at Richmond Hill to pray for this city


Some other ideas include:


1) Continuing the discipline of sacrifice I observed during Lent by giving up an activity, food, or object I enjoy in order to constantly remember that “God so loved the world that he gave…”


2) Inviting my neighbors over in an effort to better know them


3) Reserving a precious free spring Saturday to serve people I don’t know- building a home, serving food, delivering a care package


That’s plenty of boredom-busting ideas for now, unless you are willing to comment with some other suggestions. Only boring people get bored, so allez-viens!

Easter Weekend

Blinded by fog as intense as the Caribbean sun, I crept up Afton Mountain Friday just as the gray rainy day surrendered to a dark rainy night.  On the way to visit my sis at the end of a big day for her, I afforded my mind the chance to roam freely- no agenda, no to-do list, no conversation to analytically pick apart.  Instead, I thought and I watched.  I watched as road signs jumped out of seeming nothingness to my right and brake lights pleaded the existence of their invisible owners through the dense fog ahead. 

How apropos for Good Friday.  That three hour expanse of road proved dreary, difficult, hazy, and somewhat hazardous.  So too, I couldn't help but think, was Jesus' last day in flesh.  How dreary the painstaking walk to Golgatha.  How difficult the spikes fiercely hammered through muscles, tendons, and bone.  How hazy the understanding of the followers in helpless attendance.  How hazardous the title "Christ follower" as they scattered.

But for the drive back home, any trace of fog was replaced with a beaming ray of sunshine.  Road signs proudly announced their information from yards away and nuances of the mountains on either side boldly displayed their subtle beauty.  Instead of being swallowed by Friday's dense cloud, I looked to my right to find miles upon miles of exuisite crystal clear valley.

What a perfect scene for travel in anticipation of Resurrection Sunday.  The drive home was clear, invigorating, beautiful, and peaceful, just as I imagine the day Jesus rose from the grave.  How clear was God's victory once the weighty fog of confusion and chaos dissipated.  How invigorating was the evidence of freedom from death.  How beautiful was the sight of the empty tomb and hours later, the resurrected Friend Himself.  How peaceful to know that the all-powerful Father is who He says He is and does what He says He will do. 

I think the Easter Weekend lesson is that those same truths prevail both in blinding fog and clear blue skies.  The difference is not what is actually present, but our sight.  And so, we develop faith as we persevere to believe in what we cannot see.  For as the veil was torn and the fog was lifted, God graciously gave clarity and a fuller picture of the beauty that was and is and is yet to come.