My beautiful wife and I recently became the proud parents of a cute-as-heck Maltichon puppy. A Maltichon is a Maltese-Bichon Frise (said: 'free-zay') mix and he is a delightful little pup.
Having grown up with several animals, I expected all of the good things to still be true of owning a dog: playing a lot, funny moments, not-so-funny moments, expense (though when you're a kid with 'your' dog the folks typically pay for everything so owning a dog seems cheap to you).
What I didn't expect, but prayed for anyway, was for this little guy--named Calvin--to teach me more about God and about myself. I am grateful for the answers to that prayer, though what they reveal sometimes isn't pretty. I found myself pretty upset one day after having popped Calvin a little too hard for barking wildly at my father-in-law, whose house we were staying in over the weekend. His head went sideways and he hit his face on his travel crate. In reality it wasn't that hard, even for a little dog, and he was in the doorway of his crate so his head moved all of a couple of inches into the door. But I felt (and still feel) terrible about it. He's a four month-old puppy; how on earth is he really supposed to have figured out complex ideas like, 'You shouldn't bark at people, especially people who are letting you stay in their house'?
I think I picked up some bad habits from watching other dogs being raised. Not that anyone was ever downright cruel toward our animals, but there's no doubt that every now and then the response far outweighed the offense. We often underestimate animals for their basic intelligence and ability to figure things out for themselves; but we also often overestimate them and assume things like, 'No, he knows what he did. Look at him. He understands.' Does he? Does he really understand or has he become accustomed to your tone of voice dipping down when you are expressing anger?
So what does all of this have to do with Theology and the God we strive toward? It is yet another lesson of how impatient I can be and how harshly I can react when even a four month-old puppy doesn't understand and how I, knowing full-well the consequences of my sin but continuing to do it anyway, apparently haven't made the connection deeply enough: I am not a four month-old puppy who is confused but a sinner who even plans my sins out in advance, irrespective of the tremendous grace God pours out on me every second. Yet He continues to show me mercy.
And even when I want to sit in my sin and misery, moping about and feeling sorry for myself God gives freely and extends grace and mercy all the more. I think at least one reason for this is so that I learn to do the same. God doesn't slap my face into a door; He lets me continue trying to understand what I need to do as I "hunger and thirst for righteousness." I want to be satisfied. And Jesus promised I would be.
Post a Comment