Peaceful Coexistence

My dad was a hard worker, a really hard worker. He had a physical job at the railroad, and then he worked hard around the house when he came home in the evenings. Many weekends, Daddy spent a lot of time working at the little Baptist church that he helped build ... mowing the lawn, painting, repairing plumbing ... my sweet Daddy was a hard worker for sure. But Daddy also knew and understood the importance of relaxing, too ... of taking time to just be lazy or have fun. I remember him often saying, "It's a lazy kind of night, Sam, time to take it easy for a little while." The older I get, the more I realize that my dad was a very, very smart man who had a great knack for achieving balance in life, and I recognize that I could do well to learn from him even now.

Last night was a steamy, stormy night in Kansas City, and by 8:00, I decided I needed to put away my laptop and just be lazy until bedtime rolled around. Almost as soon as I closed my computer, Julie hopped up from her snooze at my feet and found a toy and plopped it in my lap, her tail wagging furiously and her eyes begging me to play. "Want to play, big girl?" I asked her as Ollie continued to sleep next to me on the couch. I tossed the toy down the hallway, and before I could blink, Ollie had flown off the couch and he and Julie were racing to retrieve the toy. I could hear them growling and see them tugging, each with an end of the toy in their mouths, as they came down the hallway carrying the toy together ... neither willing to let the other to carry the toy alone. That scene was repeated several times over the next half-hour or so as I continued to toss the toy to my hounds until they tired and collapsed in a panting heap next to each other on the floor in front of me.

Sliding off the couch and down to the floor next to the dogs, I patted their sleeping heads and smiled at the way Julie had thrown her paw over Oliver and pulled him close to her. "You two have become such good buddies, haven't you?" I said aloud to the tired pups. Tears filled my eyes as I recalled the rocky start that Ollie and Julie had, and how I thought the two of them would never be able to get along. I thought about the first time I brought Ollie home and how ferocious Julie was with him that day. I thought about how I cried all the way home after I took him back and told the lady that Julie hated the little wiener dog. I thought about how both the lady and Oliver just wouldn't go away, and how I eventually placed J.R.'s collar around Ollie's neck and Julie decided to let him stay. I thought about J.R. and how frightened he would have been in last night's storm. I thought about how Julie laid by his side and licked his head in the final days of his life. I looked at Ollie and Julie snuggled together last night, and I cried buckets of tears.

Someone said to me after J.R. died that she found it interesting that God chose a nonspeaking companion to speak to me so deeply. As I rose to dry my tears and ready myself for bed last night, I realized that there was a lesson for me in the companionship and love that I had just witnessed between Julie and Ollie. I don't believe God means for us to be at odds with each other in this life; I believe He wants us to have a peaceful coexistence as much as it is within our ability to do so. I don't think it pleases Him when we fight and snarl and attack each other; I think He wants us to play nice together, to carry things together and drop them at our Master's feet. I think He wants us to protect each other ... to put our paws around each other and hold each other close.

My prayer as I climbed into bed (quickly joined by Julie and Ollie) last night? Make me like my dogs, Lord ... teach me to lead a life of peaceful coexistence with those you have placed along the journey with me. Teach me to love as You love, to accept as You accept, to care as You care. Give me an open heart, God ... an open heart and open paws, too.