Saturday, May 5, 2012

Little Ones

Little ones, the next 48 hours will not be fun. You’ll be shoved around, exposed to unfamiliar and frightening sounds, sights, and smells. I can’t be with you, but promise to be thinking of you every moment until we are reunited. It hurts my heart to put you through this and I will try to provide you with every comfort I can for this journey.
Please trust that after this you’ll find a new home, full of fresh, cool air and fields stocked with rabbits and pheasants for you to chase until your legs give out. You’ll be through with 100 degree summers and daily walks through urban neighborhoods.
Instead, you’ll be allowed to romp off leash through forest trails, sniffing, hunting, chasing. You’ll finally have the life I have always wanted for you; a life where you can simply be a dog; where you’ll not only have a yard, but a whole countryside to explore.
You just have to make it through these next 48 hours. I wish I could stay with you. I wish I could make you understand. The discomfort and confusion will be temporary, but I promise you, an exquisite life is waiting on the other side.
As I think about putting my sweet pups on the cargo hold of a plane, I worry so much that they’ll be traumatized by the experience. I desperately want to stow away with them so that they can see my calm reaction and know that it will all be fine.
It hit me that it’s probably a pretty good analogy of how God must feel about his children on Earth, not fully comprehending the joy that lies waiting for us in the Kingdom of heaven. We experience difficulties and struggles and wonder if God has abandoned us. I know that His heart must hurt to see us struggle and I’ll bet He wishes he could be physically present to comfort us.
He promises that we will be rewarded for our faith, but we live in a world full of frightening sights, sounds, and smells; it can be easy to forget that we are just on a temporary journey. This life in comparison to eternity is even shorter than a flight to London. The reward is even better than Scotland; even more beautiful than rolling hills and valleys dotted with sheep; even more pleasant than the fresh Scottish air on a crisp and sunny summer day; even more delicious than fish and chips and a pint of Scottish Ale.
More than a thousand times better than Scotland! Can you imagine it? Neither can I. But I trust that it’s waiting for me, and that it is worth any fear, discomfort, or heart ache that I might experience in the meantime.

1 comment:

  1. This is a great analogy and an even better reminder