Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Little Lesson: Swallowing the Bitter Pill

In the past, anything I wrote as a devotional went to http://groups.yahoo.com/groups/littlelessons but I figured I might as well put everything in one place now. So, some days silly, some days contemplative, some days spiritual.  You'll never get bored at Pasture-ized.

Swallowing The Bitter Pill

I never had a dog when I was growing up. Asthmatic kids weren't allowed to have carpets, curtains, or anything with fur, although we did have cats for a very brief time. So, when we moved North, to the barren wastelands (hey, it's 15 miles to Walmart), and I saw my first coyote up close, I voted for a dog.  Princess came home first. She's a collie mix, raised as a camp puppy at the petting zoo at Spruce Lake.  She's the smart dog. She could make you breakfast if you left instructions for her.  Then, a few years later, after lions and tigers and bears, we added dog #2. That would be Shadow. Shadow is dumber than a doornail, and that's being polite. He once ran full speed into the side of the shed. He's a rottie/lab/cocker spaniel mix, so you can see he hasn't been swimming in the greatest gene pool.  I learn a lot from Shadow, he and I being of equal intelligence some days. 

Today, he sits patiently wagging his tail on the back porch. He knows it's time for breakfast, and he sees that I'm actually dressed before 7 a.m., so his tail is jumping up and down.  Kibbles! I'm gonna get kibbles!  He also gets a couple of Doxycycline in a little square of peanut butter bread.  Lyme disease, poor little guy. Those pills are nasty. If you've ever accidentally allowed a pill to dissolve on your tongue, you'll know what I mean. They apparently aren't interested in making them "doggie friendly", because making them beef flavored would most certainly raise the price.  He sees me coming with that little square of bread, and then I make it as appealing as possible...."c'mere, tha's a gooboy, mommy's gotta snackie for youuuuu", and he gobbles it up.  He's so trusting. He doesn't ask me why I've given him the bitter pills. He just takes them, and gives me a droopy tongued smile, and goes to have his breakfast.

I wish I swallowed the bitter pills as well as he does.  I don't like anything that doesn't go down smoothly in life. I'm perfectly content to walk through my morning routine uninterrupted by the chaos of real life. Hiding in my coffee sure beats facing family struggles, bills, health problems, etc.  Then, should my carefully maintained routine of life be interrupted, I want to complain.  LORD, seriously? NOW? Didn't we finally overcome ________ last week, and now THIS?! I am no Job. God sits me down and gives me a good talking to on a regular basis.  Those would be the days where my intelligence level is not even as high as the dog. You see, Shadow accepts that I am going to do what's best for him. He doesn't ask me why I've dragged him to the Vet, why the shot hurt, why the pills taste funny.  He looks at me with adoring eyes, and simply trusts.  Oh, I have so much to learn. My Master loves me waaaay more than I love that dumb dog, yet I have a hard time trusting Him when the pills taste bitter.  Lord, I want to be that trusting. Thank you that you teach me daily what it means to put my trust in You.

11 For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Friday, September 2, 2011

Welcome to Pasture-ized

Pasture-ize: (verb) to transplant, remove, relocate, or drag kicking and screaming, a person from the suburbs (a.k.a. 'the real world') and deposit them in rural America. 

Rural:  opposite of "the city", also at times referred to as "rustic", "relaxing", and "where the grass is greener" prior to the pasture-ization process. After pasture-ization, it is often referred to as "get me out of here".

Please join me in the daily adventure of life in the pasture.