I don't believe I've written anything yet about our newest addition to the family, Gus Long.
Gus joined the family in October when we adopted him from another family feeling a bit in over their heads with a growing lab puppy. We apparently have no sense of where are heads are and welcomed him right in. Gus spent the first few days with us afraid of the hardwood floors and being barked at my his dachshund sisters. The girls still do not love him, but he's managed to cope with this by stealing the beds out of their kennel on a daily basis.
Gus is, like many growing lab puppies, a hot mess. He's a big oaf of a goober who doesn't know his own size or strength and often forgets that his tail is actually his own. He starts everyday by whining until we let him out of his kennel. Then he systematically grabs everything that isn't bolted down on his way to the back door....pillows, shoes, blankets, books, my purse, the jacket I've just put on. When I walk him up to the school to pick up the boys he barks at the children and tries to take their backpacks. Yesterday Kevin took him for a jeep ride and he jumped out the window of the moving jeep. When Kevin finally caught up with him he was over at the school barking at a family playing ball. They did not have backpacks.
Shortly after we were married, Kevin and I adopted a lab named Max. She was a petite black lab who was gentle and patient, quick to please and excellent with training. She did not chew. Did not bark. Some days Gus' nickname is "Not Max." He doesn't know what we're talking about, of course, but the reference to our former pet reminds us that we are not entirely inept and we did manage to have one good dog before. Perhaps there is hope for us again...
My biggest challenge with Gus are our walks. He gets a walk usually every morning and every afternoon. Pretty much everything on the sidewalk and bordering lawns are of great interest to him right now, and I am not much of a match for his super moose strength as his zig-zags back and forth, forward and back. He sticks his nose in ant beds and eats wasps, whining he is stung and bit. My favorite thing is when people drive by in their cars and light-heartedly holler out the windows, "Who's walking who?" as Gus takes off after a butterfly.
To counter his erratic behavior I have started--upon the advice of our vet--walking with treats in my pocket. When he wanders I call him back. When he comes I give him a treat. The exercise is meant to reinforce the idea that sticking close to me is better than chasing whatever squirrel/bird/cat/butterfly/piece of trash is moving past him on the sidewalk. As we walked this morning I couldn't help but thinking of that dynamic in my own life....the things that pull my focus, that tempt me away from my own master.
Proverbs 3:5-6 says, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways submit to him and he will make your paths straight."
We have a hard time with the word "submit". A culture of deviance, defiance and sin has made it into something negative, where submission is akin to weakness. But the Greek root of the word as we see it used in scripture is closer to the idea of being in support of or identifying with its subject. As one author puts it, to submit is to exercise "the Christian grace of voluntarily yielding one's preferences to another." Individual rights don't have anything to do with it, in that submitting is not taking something away from you at all. As we submit to the Lord we are not putting aside who we are or what makes us unique individuals. We are not bowing in weakness or cowering in servitude. Rather, we are accepting our identity in Christ and letting Him lead us. Submitting to the Lord gives us the freedom to discern what is of God, that we may reflect the will of God and the grace of Jesus Christ in everything we do. That others may come to know Him and that He may be glorified.
So two things to take away from all of this Gus-inspired submission talk....
(1) Life is infinitely better when I am close to Christ. It is not perfect. It is not trouble-free. But it is guarded, it is regarded, it is purposed when I am close to Christ. On my own I am free to zig-zag back and forth, forward and back. I can chase whatever squirrel I want to. And, inevitably, I end up with my mouth full of wasp stings or my nose full of ants. But, oh what Christ has to offer! Grace! Mercy! A path not always clear, but always straight and sure.
And (2) Christ walks with me. Not above me or beyond me. Not without me. With me. That's the real idea of submission and identification, that we are not asked to serve someone who does not join us, who sits on a high and mighty throne somewhere and asks us to endure what He would not. No, not at all! Instead, Christ came to live among us. He died for us. He rose again, and through the power of His spirit, continues on in us and with us as very much alive as ever. He sees our struggles as we see them, but with a power beyond our own understanding. And in this power He works to make straight the paths this world threatens to undo every minute of every day.
We really do love Gus Long. For all of his faults (can we really call them that?) he loves nothing more than to snuggle up next to you and put his head on your lap. He is loyal and endearing and I do believe there is hope for him yet. Hope for all of us, in fact. Amen to that!
XOXO....Kelly
