God will allow us to wander and stray on our own and we can cruise along loosely thinking we're good until something happens.
Our 13 year old Golden Retriever is starting to show her age and we know a hard decision is coming soon. She has moments of falling down, lays around the house for much of the day and the responsiveness and alertness is fading.
She'll have moments where the energy returns - rolling in the grass, playing fetch as best she can - but those moments are getting farther and farther apart.
Driving to work this morning I just couldn't listen to my usual shuffle of songs and specifically put on some Israel Houghton, songs that have a specific context of worship in church, and while I didn't break down and cry I could feel the release coming.
There is something about worship that does set us free, something that sets our spirit higher.
I know what's coming soon and it hurts as much as it has for the four other dogs that have been a staple of my life over time since the day I was born.
As Robert Pirsig in his book Lila wrote, with a line that has always resonated with me:
…They were all walking down the road … when one of those raggedy nondescript dogs that call Indian reservations home came onto the road and walked pleasantly in front of them … [the woman] asked John ‘What kind of dog is that?’. John thought about it and said, ‘That’s a good dog.’… The woman …wanted to know what genetic, substantive pigeonhole of canine classification this object walking before them could be placed in. But John Wooden Leg never understood the question. He wasn’t joking when he said ‘That’s a good dog’.
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