As I was recently pondering the baffling and exasperating behavior of my dog, Winston, I realized that if I could just be a dog for a few minutes, it might do our relationship a world of good. You know, like “walking a mile in his paws.” And I’m sure that if I just spoke his language, Winston would say many things to me …
“Tell me, Mary Ann, why didn’t you let me in the other evening when you were hosting that baby shower and I stood at the French doors and barked my lungs out? I only wanted to sniff those fine ladies and inquire as to whether any of them might want to play fetch for a bit. I think it was most inconsiderate of you to ignore me and leave me out there on the deck.
“And what’s up with going to the vet for shots? Let me just tell you once and for all – I don’t like it. Not at all. And while we’re on the subject of my physical well-being, let’s talk about my meals. Can you spell c-h-i-c-k-e-n? Not that pathetic stuff that comes out of those Alpo cans in the pantry. I’d like to have the real deal sometimes – baked, grilled, or fried would be fine.”
“And let me give you a little advice, Mary Ann. You don’t play nearly enough … especially with me. I don’t think it’s asking too much for you to take just half of every hour to throw tennis balls outside with me.
“I’m on a roll here, so let me ask you something else: Do you know much about squirrels? I try so hard, but I never can catch one. It makes me crazy when they climb up trees just out of my reach and start shaking their little booties at me. Got any ideas how I might catch one? And do you happen to know what squirrels taste like? Chicken, perhaps? Ah, that’s what I dream about.
“Okay, now, let’s talk about thunderstorms. I know you don’t understand why I jump on your lap and discard all vestiges of pride, dignity and courage when I hear thunder. I’d like to explain, but I really think I should be discussing this with a professional counselor. Suffice it to say, Mary Ann, that I have issues and you’ll just have to bear with me.”
Maybe if I spoke doggyspeak, I could then explain to Winston how love does what is best (shots at the vet), not always what feels good. Or how being thankful for what we have (dog food) is the key to joy, while focusing on our lack (fresh chicken) is a quick ticket to misery. Or how play only remains fun when it is an occasional diversion from work; playing all the time sucks the fun right out of it.
Maybe I could explain how if we always get what we want (squirrels), we have nothing left to dream about. Or how sometimes the only way to overcome a fear (thunderstorms) is to stand up and look that scary thing square in the eye. Or maybe I could finally find some way to let Winston know in the deepest regions of his doggy heart that he is a beloved part of our family, so that he could relax in the knowledge that we will always take care of him.
But, alas, Winston is a dog and I am a human. There’s no way to bridge that big, big gap.
God knows how it feels to want so much to communicate His love and to reveal Himself to creatures far beneath His level in every way, and He found a way to do it. He found a way to show us His heart, His mind, His will and His amazing, amazing love.
John 1:14 – “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth.”
Hebrews 1:2a & 3a – “…but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son … (who) is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of His being …”
Philippians 2:5-7 – “Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made Himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.”
God came to us so that we could see Him, hear Him, touch Him, and know Him. He came to us to bridge the big, big gap. He came to us so that we could come to Him, and in that coming, find the greatest love that ever was or will be.
He came to us and we call it Christmas. Embrace His gift.