by: Cris Corzine-McCloskey
Last summer I wrote an article about the lessons on grace God has taught me through my relationship with Molly, my pint-sized rescue dog. Through Molly I have learned that love, patience, and forgiveness of messes produced a love from my little mutt that borders on fanatical. In turn, her love for me has produced a tenderness that I don’t have for my other dogs. Like I said, grace lessons, because that is how Jesus has loved me, and that is what His patient and persistent love has produced in me. I’m a fanatic! However, my Savior is always full of surprises, and once again, He taught me through Molly the mutt.
I have been thinking for a very long time that I focus too much on the strife and crisis of life, and that leaves me out of sorts and anything but peaceful. To further the conundrum, I have to struggle to stay out of condemnation, because I know better. My mind is fully aware of the scripture that tells us that God will keep us in peace if we keep our mind on Him (Isaiah 26:3), and that we are to fix our eyes on Jesus, as He is the perfecter of our faith (Hebrews 12:2). I know these things, but I have labored to understand what that looks like in practice. Today, as I was pondering this, I looked over at Molly, who always responded with a wag, and had my answer.
Of course, I did not have to look far, because Molly is always close by. She is the one who enters my prayer room with me (the other dogs prefer the living room window), and she is the one most likely to be by my side on the couch. Odds are, if I look down, she will be there. She watches me, and she wags. All is well with Molly as long as she can see me, and she is laser-focused on that goal. When my husband picks her up she is okay, wags, and gives a lick, but her eyes are scanning the room for me. When I’m gone she watches out the window. When I return her life starts again.
In the mornings we have a routine that involves each dog getting a treat. If I get distracted and break this routine Molly will patiently sit in the kitchen, trusting in my goodness. The other dogs give up and wander off. When I look and see she’s not there, and find her in the kitchen, I am reminded of the promise and promptly reward her with her prize. I realized that Molly trusts in my faithfulness more than I trust in God’s. She knows I’m good for it, and will wait until it happens. She doesn’t doubt or pout, she just waits, because she knows I always come through. Oh, how I long to believe God like that!
You can say what you want about her just being a dog, and that makes it easy for her. I disagree. There are plenty of distractions around here, as my other dogs have proved, but she prefers chillin’ with me to being bothered by distractions. Besides, if it were not attainable, God would not have told us how to have peace. Just like Molly does with me, we are to trust in His goodness, not doubt or pout, and keep our eyes on the prize.
If you want to see Molly in action, just drop by the agency. Her persistence in wanting to be with me has paid off big time, as she has become Caring Counseling’s therapy dog. Come on by, say hi and bring a treat. Molly will take it and wag, but I will bet you dollars for donuts that within a few seconds of your visit her eyes will go back to me, and all will be well in her world. Thanks for the object lesson, Molly, because I’m going to start looking for Jesus like that.
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