Meandering Moments by Elsi

A lady from Colorado Beagle Rescue came over this afternoon. I’d been told she would inspect my fence, to make sure it’s beagle-proof, and make sure the cat is happy and well-cared-for.

I had visions of her crawling the perimeter of my fence, and then attempting to interview Dolphin. Now, that’s a picture!

But in reality we sat in the living room and exchanged beagle stories. I showed her some photos of Lady, and Dolphin chewed at her toes and tried to attack her purse. Then she admired the backyard, told me how one of her beagles gets out through her fence, and said they’d be on the lookout for an older, female beagle with positive cat experience.

I know the Lord has a beagle for me … and I keep reminding myself, His timing, not mine!

We had a practice house church this afternoon, to let people know what house church is like. It reminds me of “pretend company,” which is how my parents decided to teach me company manners when I was small. We used the good china, invited close friends, and let me practice. Of course, I greeted them at the door with, “You’re not real company! We’re only pretending!”

Anyway, this was almost real house church … except it wasn’t at a house. We had about 25 adults plus kids, served pizza and pop, had a lesson, and answered questions about house church. And I led the Communion time.

I’d been thinking about remembering anyway, partly because of Lady, and partly because I’ve been scrapbooking my summer travels. So I delved into the Bible to see what the Lord had to say about remembering. Then I asked the “pretend house church” folks what they did to remember their summer activities. And the Lord made a perfect match between the two!

“I collect feathers, or pick up rocks.” In the future, when your children ask you, ‘What do these stones mean?’ tell them that the flow of the Jordan was cut off before the ark of the covenant of the LORD. When it crossed the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. These stones are to be a memorial to the people of Israel forever. (Joshua 4)

“I take pictures.” I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth. (Genesis 9)

“I write it down.” Then the LORD said to Moses, “Write this on a scroll as something to be remembered ….” (Exodus 17)

“I get souvenirs.” God said to Moses: “Speak to the Israelites and say to them: ‘”Throughout the generations to come you are to make tassels on the corners of your garments, with a blue cord on each tassel. You will have these tassels to look at and so you will remember all the commands of the LORD, that you may obey them.” (Numbers 15)

“We talk about it.” The LORD decreed statutes for Jacob and established the law in Israel, which he commanded our forefathers to teach their children, so the next generation would know them, even the children yet to be born, and they in turn would tell their children. Then they would put their trust in God and would not forget his deeds but would keep his commands. (Psalm 78)

And, of course, when Jesus instituted Communion at the Last Supper, He asked us to do these things to remember Him–remember what He did, what He is doing, what He will continue to do.

This evening in youth group we worked as the “advance team” for Jesus’ return to earth. What jobs would be needed, and who would serve in those jobs?

My plan was to find big names to fill the jobs: my worship leader was Chris Tomlin; publicity was John Temple, the editor of the Rocky Mountain News; pastoral care was my pastor friends Paul Fischer and Cathy Howe.

The kids decided to use just the people in the youth group, and find jobs to suit their skills. We had food and water providers, Bible hander-outers, and so forth.

Then we looked in the Bible to see the qualifications of the twelve disciples. Several we know absolutely nothing about; none (possible exception of Matthew with his money skills) had any real qualifications.

I find that fascinating! Jesus started a revolution with eleven guys not qualified for anything, yet they turned the world upside down!

So … what’s He doing with me? Writing … teaching … does He have other things in mind? I guess we’ll find out!

Dolphin here: You know, Lady was my pet. An inferior being, certainly—not terribly intelligent, not particularly interesting. But still, part of the family. I suppose I felt for her what C. S. Lewis would call storge love, which is for the familiar.

So yes, I miss her. We actually had some good times, she and I, when Mama wasn’t around. Of course, I had to damp my brilliance in order to relate to her, but that’s rather restful.

Mama says she’s looking for another beagle. I do hope she’ll let me help choose!

I’ve done very little this week, just too exhausted from traveling … and from grieving Lady … to accomplish much of anything.

This afternoon I went with my friend Vicki to visit her brother Kirby in the hospital. This is the brother we brought out here from Missouri just about a year ago. Kirby is desperately ill, with multiple parts of him not working. The doctor says he may recover somewhat from this, but the ongoing prognosis isn’t good. Kirby is such a sweet man … it hurts to see him in ICU, so ill and unhappy. Pray for us all, please … probably best for Kirby to be with the Lord, but we love him …

And then youth group this evening. What a wonderful distraction and encouragement those kids are! I was working on the difference between literal and metaphorical passages in the Bible, with the rule of thumb being to take Scripture for what it says it is. So we played a ball game with socks on our hands, so we couldn’t use our thumbs. Then we read some passages from Psalms and tried to take them literally: God has nostrils, and wings, and breaks weapons; David was a worm; we have hooves like deer. And finally we read and acted out the first part of the Gospel of Mark, which includes John the Baptist eating locusts and honey.

And at the end, I asked, “So, what’s the common theme—the thumb-less game, God with feathers, acting out Mark?” One student said, “You made us do them all.” Another offered, “They’re all about the Bible.” And Ted (I LOVE a sense of creative humor!) said, “Well, worms don’t have thumbs, and worms and locusts are kind of alike, too.” Isn’t that delightful! Then Ruthie made the logical conclusion and we brought the evening to a close.

And I came home, tired, but singing, “Sweet Hour of Prayer.” Walked through the drizzle to my front door, unlocked it, and started to say, “Here I am, lonely little beagle …” and realized … again … Dolphin’s home alone.

But God is good!

Lady was my Christmas miracle dog. My previous dog had died while I was visiting my father in St. Louis, the Christmas of 1995. At the same time, unknown to me, Lady showed up on a rural St. Louis back porch, on Christmas Eve, in a snowstorm, very pregnant. I love the symbolism … pregnant and homeless on Christmas Eve … The family took her in, kept her while she had and raised her puppies, and then asked their neighbor, “Isn’t your brother a vet? Could he help us get rid of all these beagles?” And the vet-brother turned out to be my father’s vet, who phoned me to ask, “Are you ready for another beagle?” What an example of God’s perfect timing!

All Lady has ever needed is love. (And food, of course, because she’s a beagle.) Going for a walk meant wonderful smells but, much more important, it meant finding beagle-patters. Everywhere we stopped on our travels, Lady found people who had driven across the continent just for the pleasure of patting her. By my side or, better yet, in my lap—that’s where she wanted to be.

Lady enjoyed my bouts with pneumonia. What more could she ask than to have her mama lying on the sofa all day? She loved our old cat Cassie, and would have loved Dolphin if he’d been willing to do more than tolerate her. During laughter and tears, anxiety or loneliness, at home or in the RV, Lady’s been my companion since 1996. I will miss her desperately.

So, what do I want for her? I’m not positing any doggy heaven. I don’t know for sure what the Lord does for His animals, especially the ones who are loved by His people. But, as the David Crowder song says, You make everything glorious! I am Yours … what does that make me? And He made Lady, so she is glorious also, precious to my Abba as well as to me.

Doggy heaven, for a beagle, would involve new people to greet, fresh smells to sniff, and rolling hills to run through. And supper waiting, and her loving mama.

I think, really, she wants what I most want: a warm, comfy lap … strong, safe arms to hold her … a gentle, comforting touch … kind, caring words. Beyond that, to be surrounded by loving friends, who gladly see our good points and sweetly don’t notice the flaws.

Lord, I trust You to take care of my Lady, in whatever way you feel is best. She’s been Your gift to me, and I give her back to You.

When I was first introduced to the Lord, I was baffled by one thing: His unconditional love. That was something I’d never been exposed to before, and I couldn’t grasp it at all. I had always been loved, or liked, or accepted, primarily for what I did: pretty, smart, good grades, good writer, helpful, friendly, obedient …

But now I was told that God loved me, and it wasn’t because of what I did! He just loved me, unconditionally. I didn’t understand this at all. But eventually I came to realize my dogs have always loved me unconditionally—when I’m kind or angry, if I forget to refill the water dish, if I trip over them … they still love me. That gave me my first model or example of our loving Lord’s attitude.

I’ve been thinking about the dogs I’ve had in my sixty-one years: In my family of origin, Odif, Poppy, Numa, and Tibby; in my own family, Powder, Reepy, Bitsy, Lady; in Mother and Daddy’s family, Ditto, Tibby Two, Winston. Of those eleven dogs, all were beagles except for Poppy (mutt), Powder (mutt), and Numa (basenji). Beagles, Daddy and I agreed, are the best.

My family was big on clever names. Odif is Fido spelled backwards. Tibby is short for Tibbar, which is Rabbit spelled backwards, because beagles chase rabbits. Ditto was the offspring of my Reepy and a sire named Pete (Reep-Pete, therefore Ditto). Powder is short for Powdermilk and Bitsy for Raw Bits, both from Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegon stories. Poppy was Mary Poppins; Numa is African for lioness, according to the Tarzan books. Reepy is Reepicheep, from the Narnia books. Winston was Daddy’s used dog; his original owner thought he looked like Winston Churchill. And Lady was a stray, whose rescuers called her Baby; I refused to call, “Baby! Baby!” but didn’t want to give her another entirely new name, so kept the vowel sounds (plus there’s the wonderful book and movie, Goodbye, My Lady).

more on this Monday …

I pulled in mid-afternoon, sick with my cold and exhausted. Managed to buy more decongestant, which helped, and took a nap, which also helped. And I just got home from youth group.

Justin Mier led us on not letting people despise you because of your youth (1 Timothy 4). One group acted out David and Goliath (Chris used a rubber band to dispatch Alex, attacking with a pencil). Another had Shadrach and his buddies (Karen and Haimei) attacked by fire and defended by God’s love (LeHao). The third group did Queen Esther, with the king (big Chris) wanting to discriminate against people with beach balls (Mimi). And the adults (Justin, Vicki, and me) did the child Samuel—Justin wakes up hilariously!

Four sets of young people whose willingness to step out in faith changed history and is an example to us all—even ancient me!

by Dolphin Dodge

Vacation? I don’t think so! I work much harder in our little house in the summer than I do at home! It’s certainly not a vacation for me!

My first job every morning is to get Mama out of bed. She’s a lazy thing and would loll around if I didn’t supervise closely. I roust her out of bed and make sure she opens the windows and fills the food dish.

            Then I patrol the perimeter, as I do every hour or so all night. But in the morning, when the windows are open, I can apply my specialized smelling and hearing abilities to better assess the situation. I could do this more effectively if I were outside, of course, but Mama can’t understand this. I hope she doesn’t regret it some day …

            Finally Mama makes the walls close in. I push back on them, because we’d have a much more pleasant day if she’d leave them alone. But again, she ignores my sage advice. Sigh.

            While she drives, I make sure the inside is secure: under the seats, behind the sofa, around the edges of the dashboard … I leave no place unchecked. Then I rest, on the dashboard or navigator seat or chair. Of course, I have other, secret, resting places, also, but we won’t talk about those.

            Evenings I watch for terrorists and plan my night patrols. And when there’s a thunderstorm, I stick close to the bed, in case Mama needs comfort and protection.

            Ah, yes, it’s certainly no vacation, but my sense of responsibility won’t let me rest when there are needs to be met!

I am not fond of being categorized or pigeonholed. I choose my friends for common interests and/or needs. I refuse to attend a class segregated by age, or participate in any group where some peripheral commonality is considered sufficient excuse: RV rallies, for example, where the people gather together for no reason other than they’re all in RVs. So the rationale behind the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally escapes me.

Nonetheless, it’s mighty popular! This is the 68^th year, and I have been surrounded by bikers in campgrounds, gas stations, rest areas, restaurants, and—most noticeably—along the highway. Single bikers … couples on a bike … bikers in flocks and packs … bikers in protective jackets and helmets … bikers in T-shirts and doo-rags … young, old, male, female, clean-cut, heavily tattooed …

Thinking of the classes and discussions I revel in at writing conferences, I asked a biker dude at a highway rest area what they do at the rally. He looked at me oddly and explained, “Well, they’ve got bands every night. And we can go visit places like Mount Rushmore.” Oh. Of course.

Although, since they’re mostly guys, I suppose they might well be perfectly happy standing around each other’s bikes, going, “Wow!” and “Ooooh!”  I recall a tour bus driver who told me he could gather a crowd in the parking lot simply by raising the hood of his vintage bus. I feel that way about puppies …

I’m so glad the Lord looks straight at me, not seeing me as elderly, or author, or stubborn, or traveler. He just sees me as me, and loves me as I am!