Day 28 of 31 Days of October – Roses Among The Thorn
Buddy Boy is our eleven-pound Maltese, given to us by a friend who kept offering him to me, the last pup of the litter. I was sure I didn’t want another dog. We’d had our mixed breed Poodle during the one and only son’s growing up years. She lived to be 18 and died the year Travis married.
No, I didn’t need another dog now. Until I saw that little ball of white fluff one more time. Sure enough, he claimed me.
He’s getting to be an old boy now, and like Sweet William and me he has his own health issues. I’ve started making him wear doggie booties when he first goes out in the morning to keep the dew off his feet and hopefully help alleviate his allergies.
Buddy is low to the floor, so he’s always looking up.
Whenever I start cooking, he looks up at me to see if I might offer a morsel of something. His tastes are discriminating. He likes lettuce but not tomatoes. He’ll eat a pear but not a banana. He says “no” to strawberries but “yes” to green beans.
He looks to me for his needs, all of them. He reminds me that I should be looking up also.
Buddy is content just to be with me. He loves to go in the car, whether it’s two miles to Kroger or 600 miles west to Tulsa, Oklahoma. He is just glad to be along for the ride.
He wants to be where I am, upstairs or down, on the deck or the couch, by my rocker in the morning or at the foot of our bed at night.
I could learn something about contentment from him.
If I could only be that satisfied with Jesus. Just happy to be going with Him wherever He is leading. Just willing to trust Him for the journey without worrying about how long before we get there. Just able to rest at His feet.
Yes, I can learn from our little Buddy Boy, learn to always look up. Looking upward will keep my focus off the minutia down below. Fixing my eyes on Jesus turns my heart away from my problems to the Problem Solver. Looking to Him for my every need teaches me utter dependence on the One who is completely dependable. And the things of this earth will grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace.