Lessons From My Dog

Life lessons from an unlikely teacher, my dog, Zip.

I learn a lot from my dog. That may sound ridiculous to non-dog lovers. Dogs and other animals may seem like unlikely teachers; we're the "masters" after all, right? But seriously animals can teach us a lot about life if we take the time to observe them closely. For example, yesterday I preached on Ruth 1:15-22 about Ruth's devotion to Naomi--and thus illustrating God's devotion to us in hopeless times. As I was writing my sermon at 4:30am on Saturday morning (yes, cutting it close to the ever nearing Sunday morning deadline!), Zip, my beloved JRT-chiuaua mix, sat curled in my lap. Every time I took an extended pause or sighed a frustrated prayer for inspiration, she would look up at me with eyes that said, "You can do it!" I had been sick with a stomach bug all week, so I think she intuitively knew I needed some extra love, encouragement and support. She never left my lap until I was finished. There was a night also this week I just slept in the bathroom, and Zip never wandered from my side, choosing to sleep curled up next to me on the hard bathroom floor instead of our comfy bed. There is a reason dogs are called a human's best friend. Loyalty. Devotion. Faithfulness. Companionship. All things the story of Ruth taught us this past Sunday.

My faithful companion; always by my side.

Zip's life and behavior have illumined other biblical lessons for me. For example, when we were reading the story of the Tower of Babel in Genesis 11, I thought about how Zip gets on the tallest piece of furniture she can, so she can be taller than me and Hiram, illustrating her desire to be greater than her masters just like the people building the Tower of Babel. Our dog trainer tells us that we're to make her get down when she tries to assert her dominance in such a way. God had to do the same thing with those humans trying to be greater than their Creator. Or Zip embodies all too well the cycle of obedience and disobedience of God's people wandering in the wilderness. Zip is trainable, but she is stubborn and has a mind of her own; she wants to do things her way. Sound familiar? Slowly she is learning that obedience and discipline--rules--are actually for her own good. Or, it is not in Zip's nature to willingly share; whether toys, bones, bed space or mommy time, Zip is quite selfish and likes to hoard everything for herself. Though she is relatively silent, you can see her say with her eyes and a snarl, "Mine, Mine, Mine!!" Hmmmm...sound familiar again? Zip's nature doesn't sound too far from our own human nature, does it? She is a mix of good and bad, making good decisions, but also making some bad ones. Sometimes--more often than not--teaching me what not to do as much as what to do! I guess we humans, despite our higher cognitive abilities, are really just animals. My dad told me that once when he was giving me the birds and the bees talk. I thought he was ridiculous (not to mention slightly awkward), but having been a dog owner for 3 years now, perhaps dad was right; at the end of the day we are part of the animal kingdom!

Zip is named for Zipporah, Moses wife.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised that she
is full of biblical lessons for me!

These are the kinds of things I think about on long runs when I'm out on the roads in the wee hours of the morning all by myself. I was thinking about this as I returned from my run this morning to find Zip in the only piece of sunshine in our backyard. She often does this--seeks out the one sunny spot in our oak-tree shaded backyard. Another life lesson brought to me by Zip. Often we feel darkness around us--hard times, valleys, pain, suffering, struggles--and we do nothing to move to find that one spot in our life where light is shining in. There's always light shining somewhere; Zip always finds sunshine even if it is off her beaten path. Instead of seeking out sunshine, many times, we wallow in the shade, shivering and shaking in our own misery. We feel stuck in under a rain cloud much like Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh who lives under a perpetual grey cloud. Such a spot can make us blind to the sunny spots in life. We convince ourselves that light cannot break into our darkness. But didn't Jesus tell us that the darkness of this world has been overcome with the Light? Like Zip--in such a simple and intuitive decision--we must see where Light is breaking into the darkness of our life and world, and sometimes that means we must move to that light, not waiting for the sunny spots to come our way by-chance.

My mom used to say to me when I woke up in a bad mood, or came home from school in a bad mood that I can choose not to be in a bad mood; I can choose how to respond to present circumstances. This advice used to annoy me, and only make me hold on to my bad mood longer. But my mom was right--so many of the lessons she taught me as a child have panned out to be true and valuable, and I am thankful, now that I am an adult, for her pearls of wisdom. My mom's advice and Zip's chase for the sunniest spots in our yard teach us the same lesson: we do get to choose how we respond to "dark" days--whatever that may look like for you. God does not want us to be miserable. But we live in a broken world where broken people do broken things, so there will be those down days, or weeks or months, but we must remember that "the Light shines into darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it." Our God is Emmanuel, God with us--yes, with us even in the middle of all the brokenness of our world and our lives. There's always light shining somewhere; sometimes you have to just seek it out.