I was thinking earlier that I should have named my Blog "Tales From the Dog House." I think I told you in my last Blog that I live with a friend of mine who rescues stray dogs from the streets. It seems that there is never a lack of material while living here. I could tell some funny stories; but in the same breath, I could tell some stories that might break your heart like Princessa. Anyway, this past weekend was no exception to the regular excitement that we have happening on the ranch. On Friday or Saturday, I noticed that one of the dogs outside had a bald side on the side of her backside. Being the nosy person that I am...I mean inquisitive person....I asked what was up with the bald spot. My friend said it could be a number of things and so we decided to clean and spray the spot with some anti fungal solution. On Saturday, I noticed that Missy was chewing on her tail a bit more than usual. Seems like she got whatever the other dog had. We sprayed her also but not without a minor fight. We've since determined that they both have contracted ring worm. So, in an effort to help my poor girl out- we gave her a bath and then poured a sulfer solution over her body. Then, my friend placed 2 Elizabeth collars on her- a conventional plastic one that turns her into a cone head and an inflatable one that alone looks like a life preserver. Why two? Well neither of them fit the way we need them to and we were fighting with her not to bite her tail. Now, she's running up and down the hall trying to get out of her new contraptions. At one point, I stopped her- picked her up and just held her in my arms. I rocked with her back and forth trying to comfort her and telling her it was going to be ok. As I stood there with her, I couldn't help but wonder- 2 things. First, I joked on my FB status that I think this is God's funny way of preparing me for motherhood. Hey, I've learned a lot about being a mom from having a dog! But as I stood there- I wondered...wow, what experiences will I have with my child(ren) that I will hold them in my arms, trying to comfort them and assure them that everything will be ok? If you are a parent, you could share with me lots of examples-I know; but God, which ones will be unique to me?
The other thing that I wondered was is this a reflection, a pre-taste, of what is to happen as my ministry to the homeless and those in low income housing continues to grow? Who will I be holding in my arms, comforting them and trying to reassure them that everything is going to be ok? Will it be a mother who has lost her son to gang warfare? Will it be an addict from the streets who is going through detox? Will it be the "crazy" lady from across the street who is not really crazy but has serious mental health issues that have not been addressed properly? In the book, "Souls in the Hands of a Tender God" the author tells of his journey of meeting people on the streets and how he develops relationships with them. Often times, it just begins with a simple hello as they walk by each other which eventually leads to him helping them with a bigger problem or issue. He also discusses what it really means to walk with someone on the journey from the beginning to the point until they are ready to fly on their own. It's not an easy journey. It's full of heartache and pain. It's full of triumph and joy. It's full of ups and downs and mountains and valleys. With the short attention span and the busy lives that we have these days- who's going to be willing to really walk on the journey?
It takes a lot of commitment to walk on the journey with someone. It takes a lot of stamina and endurance and patience and understanding and so much more; but mostly, it takes a lot of love. But do I have that much love? Missy has only had her condition for a couple of days and she has already scratched me up from holding her down to be sprayed. I think for a mil a second when I was giving her a bath she actually considered biting me when I attempted to cut some of the hair from her tail. (For those who know her- that might have been a shocking statement. Missy is the kind of dog who will hang and chill with you. Biting is not her style at all.) She's looked longingly at me with her big brown eyes pleading with me to help her but at the same time being in the midst of pain and fear. What I'm trying to say is that- I can see in her eyes that she longs for help but is afraid that it will hurt more. She's torn. I'm torn. But yet, I'm her mother for all intents and purposes. It's my job to take care of her. My job to keep her safe. My job to help her get better when she's not feeling well...but sometimes it hurts. It hurts her and it hurts me. I have made the decision to do whatever I have to do to be the best mom to her. I love her!
In the same manner, do I have enough love for the ones I work with on the streets and in the casarios? Will I have the same attitude and concern when someone I love is clawing and scratching at me as they withdraw from drugs? Will I stand there at take whatever tongue lashing they give to me because they are in pain, are hurt, angry and confused? Will I still love them when they walk away from everything that I have done for them to help them have a better life to go back to their old ways? Will I still love them when they repeatedly come back to me begging for forgiveness and then turn around and do what has hurt or offended me again? Will I love them?
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