Lessons in Little Things

All posts in the Lessons in Little Things category

Man Plans While God Laughs

Published November 25, 2018 by Dawn

The Christmas tree went up last night. It’s beautiful chaos, and putting it up was beautiful chaos too. I don’t usually describe chaos like that. I don’t really like chaos … It gives me anxiety.

I know we all consider ourselves to be creatures of habit. I don’t know if anyone is as married to their habits as I am. After all, humanity glorifies marriage and I’m still single, so I think it’s probable that my habits are a surrogate. Let me explain:

My life is full of routine. There’s a system to my morning: wake up, potty break, shower (there’s a system for the shower too), lotion, dress, wake up the kids, hair, brush teeth, make-up, hot tea, walk out the door. Dishes have a system: Plates first, then silverware and cups, glass bowls, plastic bowls, pots and pan, and then anything else that sits on the counter (which is usually nothing). My life is a well-oiled machine until you throw people into the system and then I have to micromanage their existence so that it doesn’t mess up my systems … living with me sounds amazing, right? My kids think so too …

We always put the Christmas tree up the day after Thanksgiving, but this year, we had to wait until the weekend because my daughter is now a working woman. She missed Thanksgiving (I’m now an advocate for Black Friday starting on Friday), and had to work during the nuttiness of Black Friday, so we had to put our traditions off until the weekend. I made a full Thanksgiving dinner, invited the fam and recreated Thanksgiving for her yesterday. Not to put off the tree any longer, we meshed Thanksgiving with the beginning of the Christmas season in our house and dubbed Saturday “Thanksmas.” After gorging ourselves and cleaning up, we prepared to put up the tree.

I had a plan for last night, wouldn’t you know … we always go to the store and each pick out a new ornament for the tree. Then we come home, turn on a Pandora Christmas station, get out the stuff, do the tree, drink hot chocolate, and watch a funny Christmas movie (yes, it’s almost always one of three: Home Alone, A Christmas Story, or Christmas in Wonderland). Last night, we did things a little different… By “we,” I mean mostly me. That was not part of the plan.

My kids are teenagers, so music, facetime and hanging out trumps tradition. While I brought the many boxes of Christmas up from the basement, they hung out in my son’s room and ate chips and dip. While I painstakingly added volume to each individual branch and put it in its place, they played Country and Rap to drown out Bing Crosby and Louis Armstrong. While I untangled the lights, fussed with the fuses and went to the store for replacements, they played basketball under the streetlights. Every once in a while a kid would pop in to see how things were going or lend a hand, but I had to talk myself out of a few pity parties as I lamented the ways things have changed this year. So many changes and none of them were a part of the plan.

When they did finally join me, it was only to hijack my phone charger and fill the living room with 90’s pop music. I must admit, I raised some eyebrows as I busted out my 90’s dance moves and sang all the lyrics at the top of my lungs. My son was unimpressed but my daughter decided to learn Vanilla Ice verbatim. They did help me put the decorations on after the lights were strung, but things are a little different than usual. Our angelic tree topper has a large green alien sitting on her shoulder … so different than I envisioned. But so like my son, who was pleased I left it.

I shared all of this because “Man plans while God laughs.” There is so much truth to this. Proverbs 16:9 says, “A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.” Similarly, chapter 19:21 says, “Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but the purposes of the Lord prevail.” For a planner like myself, this is a little cringy. Situations that require me to just sit back and watch God do His thing are so hard. I know God is awesome and has great plans for us. I’ve read Jeremiah 29:11, and a slew of other verses that inspire me to trust God. And when I’m lost in adoration and worship, I can trust God with such fidelity. But in the drudgery, as Oswald Chambers liked to call it, the everydayness when life happens and there’s not an acute sense of God’s nearness, I go back to my meticulous planning and create order in the chaos as much as I can.

Last night taught me that strictly following my own plans robs me of the bliss in life. There’s not a ton of it, after all. If I had demanded they come into the living room and help, I would have had very sullen teenagers resisting every proposal or directive I made. If I had insisted on Christmas music, I would have missed belting Britney Spears, Spice Girls and the Soundtrack to Grease with my sixteen-year-old. Moments with my kids are slipping away faster and faster. Do I really want to miss out just because the alien clearly does not belong atop the angel atop the tree? I might have!

In light of this sobering reality, I reflected on life in the larger sense and I must admit that there may have been times I missed out on things that would have deepened my connections with others or added to my joy because I was so stuck on the preplanned things in my mind. I don’t think that’s how God operates. He’s the creator of  spontaneity, after all. His plans seem to thrive in an atmosphere of bewilderment and joy. He hardly ever follows logic, and there is no rhyme or reason to the way God works. Clearly, we cannot stick to our plans so religiously and expect to walk in the perfect will of God. All of our preconceived notions make God laugh because we’re dreadfully simple and He’s extravagant and wild. I want that. I want whatever God is doing. That crazy, zany, impractical thing I can’t imagine because I like symmetry and He loves coloring outside the lines. Father, teach me to love what you are doing and the spontaneity of it. Teach me to sit back and enjoy what you are doing instead of trying to make everything make sense and have a semblance of order. Help me to hear your will and follow your directions into whatever it is you have planned for my life. I don’t want to control and contain what is clearly bigger than me and better than I can create in my own imagination. Have your way. Let’s have fun in this together.

“ … as it is written: “What no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, and what no human mind has conceived”— the things God has prepared for those who love him—” (1 Cor. 2:9).

 

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Give Thanks!

Published November 22, 2018 by Dawn

It’s 8:00 Thanksgiving morning and I’m still in my PJs, snuggling with my dog-who-thinks-she’s-still-a-puppy. That’s something I am really thankful for.

I’m also grateful for this warm house and plenty of blankets to ward off the cold outside.

I’ve come to the realization lately that not being thankful for – or even cognizant of – my blessings is a major factor in the joyless, depressive state I’ve been living in for a while. Focusing all my attention on the negative is exactly what Satan wanted me because it made me completely useless for the kingdom of God for an entire year or more. I can act with the best of them and I’ve got a smile that can hide the tears in my eyes. But I’ve been withdrawn and sad for a long time. If you don’t believe me, ask my best friend. Well, first, ask her if we’re even friends anymore … with less than a mile between us, we’ve talked once in the past year.

Enough about that, though. Let’s talk about being thankful. Talking about thankfulness on Thanksgiving has got to be the biggest cliche in the world, so I wrestled with even writing this. Who’s going to read it with all the Turkey Pranks and RealTime videos circulating today? But then, does it even matter if no one else reads this? I’m just grateful for the opportunity to write it, while nestled in between two pups who are holding down the comforter that’s hugging me. It’s bliss!

Of course, I’m thankful for all the material things I have. The house, the car that gets me to work, toilet paper (yes, this list is first to last and TP is up there), my Bible, food and clothing, and all the wonderful things God has provided to make my life more comfortable. I watched a video last night on PBS about the hardest places on Earth that people actually live, and I’m really grateful I don’t live in an arctic region or a dry, arid place. Although a dry, arid place might make my face feel a little better. I’m thinking my first stock investment might be Mucinex …

I’m also grateful for my family. My kids, who keep me honest and humbled. Who see me fail and still love me and forgive me. I’m thankful for siblings who still come around and call with such fidelity even though I hole up and disappear for months on end when I’m sad. I’m thankful for mornings with my mom at the gym, getting fit but really just there to see her every day. I’m thankful for a stepdad who should have been my real father. But God knows what we need when we need it most so I’m just glad he’s here. He’s the best.

I’m thankful for a church family, too. Those flawed people who refuse to quit on me and who lift me up in prayer far more than I know about. They’re an extension of the hands and feet of God in my life and I am so grateful to know Him more through them.

This year, I’m finally able to say I am also thankful for the suffering. I used to wonder what James meant when he said to be thankful for our sufferings. It used to really upset me that he would raise such a high bar with that statement (James 1:2) and then not tell me how I’m supposed to be genuinely overjoyed while life feels so awful. Finally, I think I get it, though.

If I have learned nothing else over the past few years, it is that suffering draws us nearer to God. When your life is so shaken that everything that can be shaken falls away (Hebrews 12:27), you realize that the only thing in your life that cannot be shaken is God. Your friendships, your familial relationships, your job, your bank account, your tithing, your ministry, all of these things and so much more can be shaken and broken up. They can all be destroyed in some way. Even your self-righteousness or your self-made holiness. All the things you do to make God proud, or yourself proud, all of those things can be uprooted in a flash of anger and confrontation. In that place, where the wreckage lies scattered all around, you will find that when you look up to God, He’s still right where you last saw Him and He’s acutely aware of you. Still waiting with open arms. Still willing to take you into them. And all of this because Christ decided, before you were even capable of some semblance of goodness on your own, that you were worth dying for. I’m so grateful for that.  

If you can’t find anything to be thankful for this year, that alone is enough. Even if your friends have deserted you, your family has turned their backs, your kids are such teenagers, or your job is a dead end street, you can rest today knowing that the Word says He loves us so much, no price was too much to pay to have us back from sin and death. He loves us so much, He is pouring out blessings. Open your eyes and see them! God is good, and for that, I am so very, very grateful. Happy Thanksgiving, friends!

 

Doctor Recommendation

Published October 4, 2018 by Dawn

I have now gone to the chiropractor two Mondays in a row. A vertebra in my lower back had slipped and there was a visible tilt in my trunk as well as a ton of pain. I could hardly walk for an entire weekend and called the chiropractor seven minutes after he opened the following Monday. The effects of his first adjustment were immediate and amazing. But as the week wore on, I could still feel a problem. My shoulders felt really weird, there was a twinge of pain that kept coming and going between my shoulder blades, and I had pain radiating up my neck. I walked into his office for a second time the next Monday and mercifully, he squeezed me in. After my second adjustment, I was finally pain free.

My mom and I were at the gym the next day and I said to her, “You have no idea how good it is to not be in pain. I feel like I’ve been in pain forever.” You might say, “Sounds like you were really only in pain for two weeks.” That’s what it sounds like, but I didn’t mention the constant pain from tight hamstrings or the fact that this vertebra had been working its way out of place for a while. It has literally felt like an eternity. To not feel any part of my back or legs is not normal for me. I am usually very aware of my body because it’s almost always screaming at me.

The thought occurred to me that there are people all over the world who share this experience. People who feel like they’ve been hurting for an eternity and have no idea if there’s a cure or if it’s just something they have to deal with for the rest of their lives. Some of these people hurt physically, and some of them hurt emotionally. If I knew a specialist who could help them find relief, I’d tell them about it immediately. I can’t stand the thought of people in pain! I am too intimately acquainted with constant pain to leave people to suffer.

So why am I not talking about Jesus like he’s the Great Physician? I know He can heal and restore. He’s mended my broken heart, healed my deep wounds, nursed me back to life and given me newness. He saved me from devastation and gave me a testimony. He literally pulled me away from my own obsession with suicide and given me reasons to live. He’s replaced all the brokenness in my life. People should know about this! If a person with back issues asked my recommendations, I’d give them the number of my chiropractor because I have experienced his expertise and think he’s amazing. Likewise, I took a lot of emotional turmoil to the feet of Jesus and found that he is most amazing! I recommend Him to anyone based on my personal experience!

A Single Heartcry

Published August 27, 2018 by Dawn

A friend of mine very recently got engaged. She’ll marry into a family, with children, and reap an abundance as God promised her many years ago. The reactions have been nothing but gracious and loving; some have proclaimed God’s goodness, others His faithfulness, and still others, His miraculous abilities. Thank God, she’s about to be married!

I’m super excited for her. I’ve shared her secret anguish, holding onto a promise for so long. Having an unfulfilled desire and having to lean into God in weak moments of despair. Biting the lip and fighting back tears while others rejoice at God’s faithfulness at the altar of matrimony. Always wearing the bridesmaid’s dress and dying inside. I’ve lived there for a long time myself.

I stood in the kitchen with my 15-year-old daughter last night, making burgers and talking about heart longings. She asked me, “Why does the church make marriage seem like the ultimate thing?” I knew exactly what she was asking, even before she poured it out for discussion: why is marriage such a big deal to the church? Why do you only get validated in the church when someone’s ringed you up? Why are people so impressed by that ultimate validation of worthiness in another’s eyes?

I’ve recently been invited to join a singles’ group online, which I swore I would never do, but suddenly, it seemed like a community of believers I wanted to be a part of. They get me. The silent despair. The loneliness. The pressing in. The feeling of isolation, and being overlooked all the time. I joined and found that most of us feel this deep pain because we have fed into the lie that marriage makes us complete. That when someone else chooses us over all others, it’s because finally, there’s something about us worth choosing.

In response to the news, many have exclaimed, “It’s such a miracle!” I know that my friend will agree that God has been working miracles in her life through all her sojourn of singleness. She gave her singleness to God and He used it to the fullest. He took her places she might never have been as a married woman and mother, and used her in the lives of many children while her heart pined to hold a child of her own making. The miracles didn’t start with this one, church!

She gave her time to God and He blessed her with His presence. She was never alone. Just saddled with a feeling of loneliness because Satan knows it’s an effective way to derail a single Christian. That woman became strong in solitude, held onto God in desperation and got to know her Savior as her Husband and Friend. She’s been strengthened to know where her help comes from, should her earthly husband fail her. She’s held the hand of Jesus in dark places and He’s brought her out.

Someone else proclaimed, “God is so good!” Hadn’t He always been good? Wasn’t He good even in the trying times? Have we learned nothing from Job? God was good to this woman despite her suffering. He was good to her despite the times she lashed out in frustration during the wait. He continually did good for her, even if it didn’t feel good at the time. She’ll agree that although the wait being over is the best feeling in the world, God has always been good to her.

We have to stop glorifying blessings, Church. We need to start glorifying God. Despite our experiences, God is good. He’s always been good. He is miraculous, working in ways we can’t even perceive. There’s a world out there that’s not experiencing only wonderful things. People are broken. They need to know that it’s ok if God is the only one who sees you or calls you worthy. We do a disservice to the lost and dying world around us if we only acknowledge the greatness of God in our blessings. Wouldn’t they love to be held in the pain? Wouldn’t it be wonderful if they knew how to lean into God while they suffer? Isn’t this of great worth in our walks with God? Shouldn’t we tell them? Shouldn’t we be proclaiming God’s goodness while the world comes down around us? If we can’t worship while we suffer, we’re in a relationship with God’s hands, and not Himself. Doesn’t He deserve more of us than that?

This is my #sorrynotsorry moment: we especially have to stop glorifying marriage as the ultimate “thing” in life. Especially in ministry. God used many single people in the Bible. They were not less than and they were not used less. God has given some a ministry of marriage and others a ministry of singleness. Both are precious in His sight and He can use either situation equally effectively. The church is hurting single people, it’s true. But God is holding them. For this, we can praise Him in our suffering, thanking Him that all this pain makes us cling to Him.

Be encouraged, single friends, you are being held by the Maker of Heaven and Earth. He knows your name. He’s pressed into your heartbeat and that kind of validation trumps any eye-catching moment here on Earth.

The Pharisee Within

Published August 22, 2018 by Dawn

“Lord, why can’t I follow you now? I will lay down my life for you” (John 14:37)

All four Gospels share this exchange. Peter vowed to Jesus that he would go with him to prison and even death, rather than disown him. What a friend, right? Of course, we all know what happened just a few hours later. In what must have been the scariest moment of his life – and probably the most disappointing as well – Peter watched Jesus be lead away in chains and then tormented in every sense of the word. He no doubt felt the loss of every hope he had of seeing Israel restored to God’s favor and liberated from the tyranny of Roman rule.

What exactly was Peter getting at when he said, “Even if all fall away, I will not” (Mark 14:29)? Furthermore, what did Jesus mean when, later in John 21:15, he asks Peter, “Do you love me more than these?” Allow me to share what I felt the Lord laid on my heart a few weeks ago in regard to these scriptures.

There was something undone in Peter that had to be exposed and removed before he could effectively do what God had purposed him for. His question, “why can’t I follow you now?” was a foreshadowing of the hindrance God was about to uncover in his heart. When Peter told Jesus, “Even if all fall away, I will not,” what he was baring for all to see was the Pharisee within. Peter thought there was something in everyone else around him that he could never be guilty of. He thought his devotion to Jesus eclipsed that of his partners and friends. In essence, he thought he was incapable of falling in the same way everyone else was destined to do that night, per the prediction Jesus had made. Christ gently affirmed Peter’s eventual course, which Peter again refused to acknowledge his propensity toward.

Peter couldn’t avoid the falling away. He was destined for it. His weakness was about to be exposed. “Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail, and when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers” (Luke 22:31-32). How wonderful that Jesus knew his failure before it even occurred and had already interceded for him!

I can’t imagine how painful the next few days were. Peter had to live with the guilt of his betrayal while he mourned the loss of his best friend. They had met eye-to-eye as the rooster crowed. Peter had wept bitterly knowing that Jesus hadn’t missed the sign he’d spoken of. The guilt must have been very burdensome, because when the disciples saw Jesus on the shore of Galilee after the resurrection, Peter jumped overboard and swam to Jesus while the rest of them rowed the boat back in. He was miserable, I’m sure, until he could repent at Jesus’ feet. Later, they walked side by side and Jesus said, “Peter, do you love me more than these?” I never understood that question before, but now I think I do: Jesus was addressing the original thought in Peter’s heart, where Peter thought he loved Jesus more and that was why he believed himself utterly incapable of sinning in such a way.

Peter was hurt. Ashamed. Still comparing himself, as he nodded toward John and said, “What about him, Lord?” Jesus simply said, “Don’t worry about him. You follow me.”

I believe it’s true that many Christians are really good at watching their lives and doctrine closely (1 Timothy 4:16), and that’s scriptural. Nothing wrong with that. But I think we can also become so focused on our own efforts and our perceived goodness that we look at others and think, “Oh, I would never do that.” This attitude can be a hindrance to our ministry to love others because it’s not humble, and just as surely as Peter had to get that out of his system before he could see thousands respond to the Gospel, we will also stumble on all the things we are certain will never trip us up, until we hang our heads in shame, seek forgiveness and walk in humility among the people God has called us to minister to.

We can take heart in the fact that Jesus is never disillusioned about us. He knows what we are capable of far better than we know ourselves and intercedes for us according to his foreknowledge. He’s never surprised. There’s incredible comfort in that!

Ultimately, we must acknowledge the truth of Galatians 5:17, that the spirit and the flesh are at war and we are fallible to our fleshly nature at any given moment that the Holy Spirit is not leading us. But thankfully, there is redemption written for every failure because Jesus was victorious. He prayed for us so that we can be strengthened in our areas of weakness. God loves the humble, and these failures bring us nearer to the heart of God rather than further away, if we are willing to be guilty before him, as Joshua was in Zechariah 3. There are so many tremendous examples of failure followed by God’s forgiveness and redemption. The Christian should be relieved to know this, as the Pharisee within must be removed before God can use us like He used Jesus. Lift your head, friend, redemption draws nigh!

The Pharisee Within

Published August 13, 2018 by Dawn

“Lord, why can’t I follow you now? I will lay down my life for you” (John 14:37)

All four Gospels share this exchange. Peter vowed to Jesus that he would go with him to prison and even death, rather than disown him. What a friend, right? Of course, we all know what happened just a few hours later. In what must have been the scariest moment of his life – and probably the most disappointing as well – Peter watched Jesus be lead away in chains and then tormented in every sense of the word. He no doubt felt the loss of every hope he had of seeing Israel restored to God’s favor and liberated from the tyranny of Roman rule.

What exactly was Peter getting at when he said, “Even if all fall away, I will not” (Mark 14:29)? Furthermore, what did Jesus mean when, later in John 21:15, he asks Peter, “Do you love me more than these?” Allow me to share what I felt the Lord laid on my heart a few weeks ago in regard to these scriptures.

There was something undone in Peter that had to be exposed and removed before he could effectively do what God had purposed him for. His question, “why can’t I follow you now?” was a foreshadowing of the hindrance God was about to uncover in his heart. When Peter told Jesus, “Even if all fall away, I will not,” what he was baring for all to see was the Pharisee within. Peter thought there was something in everyone else around him that he could never be guilty of. He thought his devotion to Jesus eclipsed that of his partners and friends. In essence, he thought he was incapable of falling in the same way everyone else was destined to do that night, per the prediction Jesus had made. Christ gently affirmed Peter’s eventual course, which Peter again refused to acknowledge his propensity toward.

Peter couldn’t avoid the falling away. He was destined for it. His weakness was about to be exposed. “Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail, and when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers” (Luke 22:31-32). How wonderful that Jesus knew his failure before it even occurred and had already interceded for him!

I can’t imagine how painful the next few days were. Peter had to live with the guilt of his betrayal while he mourned the loss of his best friend. They had met eye-to-eye as the rooster crowed. Peter had wept bitterly knowing that Jesus hadn’t missed the sign he’d spoken of. The guilt must have been very burdensome, because when the disciples saw Jesus on the shore of Galilee after the resurrection, Peter jumped overboard and swam to Jesus while the rest of them rowed the boat back in. He was miserable, I’m sure, until he could repent at Jesus’ feet. Later, they walked side by side and Jesus said, “Peter, do you love me more than these?” I never understood that question before, but now I think I do: Jesus was addressing the original thought in Peter’s heart, where Peter thought he loved Jesus more and that was why he believed himself utterly incapable of sinning in such a way.

Peter was hurt. Ashamed. Still comparing himself, as he nodded toward John and said, “What about him, Lord?” Jesus simply said, “Don’t worry about him. You follow me.”

I believe it’s true that many Christians are really good at watching their lives and doctrine closely (1 Timothy 4:16), and that’s scriptural. Nothing wrong with that. But I think we can also become so focused on our own efforts and our perceived goodness that we look at others and think, “Oh, I would never do that.” This attitude can be a hindrance to our ministry to love others because it’s not humble, and just as surely as Peter had to get that out of his system before he could see thousands respond to the Gospel, we will also stumble on all the things we are certain will never trip us up, until we hang our heads in shame, seek forgiveness and walk in humility among the people God has called us to minister to.

We can take heart in the fact that Jesus is never disillusioned about us. He knows what we are capable of far better than we know ourselves and intercedes for us according to his foreknowledge. He’s never surprised. There’s incredible comfort in that!

Ultimately, we must acknowledge the truth of Galatians 5:17, that the spirit and the flesh are at war and we are fallible to our fleshly nature at any given moment that the Holy Spirit is not leading us. But thankfully, there is redemption written for every failure because Jesus was victorious. He prayed for us so that we can be strengthened in our areas of weakness. God loves the humble, and these failures bring us nearer to the heart of God rather than further away, if we are willing to be guilty before him, as Joshua was in Zechariah 3. There are so many tremendous examples of failure followed by God’s forgiveness and redemption. The Christian should be relieved to know this, as the Pharisee within must be removed before God can use us like He used Jesus. Lift your head, friend, redemption draws nigh!

Jesus is a dog person

Published July 30, 2018 by Dawn

Remember that one time Jesus low-key insulted a woman? It was actually a very beautiful exchange, but it is quite shocking on the surface. Jesus was hiding out in a house in Tyre, failing miserably to keep his presence there a secret. As soon as this woman heard about him being nearby, she goes to the house and throws herself at his feet (this part of the story is recorded in Mark 7:24-30). Her daughter was being tormented by an evil spirit and this mother brought all of her hope to Jesus and begged him to release her little girl. Matthew 15:21-28 tells us that the first time she asked, He ignored her. Then, she kept pleading incessantly until his disciples had enough.

“Send her away, Lord! She keeps crying out after us!”

I don’t know how the next part came out. Was it apathetic? Cold and distant? Weary? He said, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.” She was a Canaanite and I’m sure knew how to read between the lines. She was not on the VIP list. Instead of turning away, which is probably what I would have done, she knelt at his feet and implored, “Lord, please help me.”

Surely that got him, right?

“It’s not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.”

Bruh. Did you hear that? Jesus just called her a dog. This momma bear was undeterred and quipped back, “Yes it is, Lord. Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”

This whole conversation is marked with grace beyond belief. It fell into my remembrance the other day as I made my way to the living room with a snack. My dogs were getting a knee here and a toe there because they weren’t moving with me while I walked. They were doing their best to be as close to my food-hand as possible. When I sat down, Hoggie (full name Mahogany, but Hoggie makes sense …) crept behind my knees and wound herself up around the back of my leg to peer up at me from the center of my thigh gap so she could catch any and everything that fell from my mouth. I was beyond annoyed. Ruffles, the other pup, was sitting on my toes at a safe distance from Mahogany’s jealous jowls, watching in anticipation. I remembered this woman’s response and the power of her words finally hit me; no wonder Jesus commended her for her faith and answered her plea.

I don’t know about you, but at my house, eating is kind of a robotic thing. We don’t worry about food and we eat on schedule every day. The kids don’t beg for food, they simply respond to it. Food appears, they eat. They don’t say thanks, because it’s a given that they’re going to eat. It’s an expectation and they aren’t ever disappointed. Well … sometimes. Let me rephrase that: they aren’t ever hungry.

My dogs, however, would prefer the food from my table over their own. When we’re eating, they are as close to us as they can get (Ruffles is always sitting on someone’s feet and Hoggie is always edging her way into a thigh gap). They eagerly salivate at the thought of someone sharing and jump out of their skin to be closest to the ground when a crumb falls. A crumb. It’s ridiculous the tidbits they find worth their time and effort.

I wonder if Jesus’ attitude was a set-up. Did his disciples know how awful they were being? They were children and heirs who had become flippant about Jesus’ purpose. They were self-righteous snobs who knew they belonged at the table. The children of Israel were God’s people, but they were entitled and I think Jesus wanted them to see that. After all, they had free access to what she needed most desperately. Would they really deny her pleas just because of her heritage? Seems they would, but would He?

It gave me chills to parallel this story to the behavior of my dogs when food is involved. It seems like Jesus is insulting her, but once again, we find him in irony. This woman is desperate. She carries on the analogy and equates him to her owner. She tells him she is willing to take even the crumbs – the offal from the table – because she considers even the tiniest morsel to be worth her time and effort. The children would never do that! Suddenly, I wanted so badly to have that kind of devotion. Not the devotion of a child, because I find that children have a blind devotion and a common lack of appreciation. No, the devotion of a dog. Dogs are such loyal, loving and zealously devoted creatures and they abandon themselves in their displays of affection for their “masters.” They love to eat, most especially, the crumbs that fall from the master’s table.

I bet his disciples learned something that day. I know I did when the full weight of that conversation hit me. No wonder dogs are known as man’s best friend! And no doubt, Jesus is a dog person.