A Hard Lesson

“In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith--more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire--may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.” (1 Peter 1:6,7)
A quick internet search reveals page after page of articles and videos detailing brave dogs who moved in quickly and selflessly to save their owner from a train, a fire, a bear, a cougar, even suicide.  Their stories are an amazing testimony to the bond between a dog and their human companions.  And then there’s my story.
Trying to burn off the excess energy of a four year-old Doberman is a full-time job and after countless daily walks around the same old streets, I thought that I would try something new.  I decided to bike around the neighborhood while Deion, my Dobe, trotted along side on his leash.  As I held the leash in one hand and steered my bike with the other, we glided effortlessly around the block.  Deion seemed to enjoy the quicker pace and I was delighted that I could easily keep up with him.  As I proudly hummed along, marveling at my ingenious solution to Deion’s need of constant movement, I had foolishly failed to remember another of Deion’s persistent desires.  The desire to rid the entire neighborhood of the pesky, ever-present squirrel population.  It’s not only a need for Deion but an instinctual passion to chase any small, furry rodent of which he happens to catch sight.  Today was no exception.  As I obliviously peddled along enjoying the warm breeze and pleasant sunshine, I suddenly found myself jerked off my proud pedestal and planted face down on the cold, hard concrete.  Lying wedged between the street and my bike, I slowly took stock of each limb, making sure it was still in working condition.  Once it was established that yes, I could stand up and make my way back home, I realized that my faithful dog companion for whom this whole biking experience was created was not fearlessly trying to lift the bike from my crumpled and bruised body.  He was not pulling my cell phone out of my pocket to dial 911 or summoning Timmy to come to my rescue.  No, he was obliviously barking and racing around a tree after a small black squirrel.  
There were a few thoughts that came into my mind as I slowly picked myself and my bike up off the ground.  One was that maybe Deion didn’t love me as much as I thought he did.  Maybe our relationship wasn’t as strong as some dog-human bonds.  I thought that if I’d really been hurt, could I have laid there for hours without Deion even being aware that I was no longer holding on to his leash?  And now, with scraped knees and a wounded pride, I had to chase and gain control of this dog that couldn’t have cared one iota if I lived or died.  The whole incident hurt me in more ways than one.
Resentfully, I snatched Deion’s leash and wobbled home with Deion once again at my side.  He walked gingerly and occasionally, glanced up at me.  “Oh, now you notice I’m here.” I said, sarcastically.  He seemed to feel, with that mysteriously perceptive canine insight that things weren’t right between us and for the rest of the afternoon, he stayed by my side and rested his head on my lap whenever I was seated.  I realized that Deion did indeed love me and that his lapse in judgement wasn’t indicative of the state of our relationship but just an instinctual drive that he could not control.  I felt assured that if our house ever caught on fire, Deion would indeed save our family.  Unless, of course, a squirrel got there first.
It wasn’t until years later, following another circumstance in which I felt forgotten about and neglected that I reflected on the similarity between the bicycle incident and the one I was currently battling.  I again felt abandoned but this time by God.  I prayed over the circumstance, recited Bible passages in my head but still it was as if I was once again lying in the street pressed between the cement and this crushing burden.  Where was God?  Why wasn’t He paying attention to my desperate prayers and petitions?  Again I wondered as I did in the circumstance with Deion, is it because I’m not loved like I thought I was?  Did I not build my relationship with God enough through daily Bible reading and prayer?  Was I being punished?  What continued to pull me through my circumstance was reflecting on the fact that God is and has always been faithful.  Just as there were countless times in the past when Deion’s warm, gentle presence had lifted my spirit when I was sick or saddened, God has always been there for me.  The fact that He wasn’t seemingly present in the time frame I expected Him to be was not an indication that He didn’t know what I was going through.  
“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. and let steadfastness have it full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” (James 1:2-4)  There are times when the pain we are going through is a time of strengthening our faith and rebuilding our dependency on God’s grace and mercy.  Never confuse God’s inaction in times of trial as indifference.  As hard as it may be to believe at the time, God is there, He does love us, and is working on us and in us through this trial.  “Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.”  (James 1:12)  God is not oblivious to your pain, you simply need to continue to pursue him by prayer and petition.  He will be with you and walk by your side all the way home.