The serious goings-on in our tumultuous world supply more than enough fodder for real newspaper columnists to discuss. But who, besides me, is going to address the news item I read the other day about a dog who ate nearly four dozen socks?
Pontificating on things like Islamic jihadists, the Russian invasion of Ukraine, and the ebola outbreak is way above my pay grade. But a dog who ate 43-1/2 socks? That’s more my speed.
If you didn’t see the article, here’s what happened: A 3-year-old Great Dane was rushed by his owners to an animal hospital in Portland, Oregon, when he began suffering intestinal distress. X-rays indicated the pooch’s tummy was full of “foreign material,” which turned out to be 43-1/2 socks. The Great Dane was fine after surgery. I’m assuming the socks didn’t fare so well.
I have so many questions about this story.
How long did it take the dog to eat all those socks?
How did the dog get ahold of so many socks in the first place?
And my biggest question: Didn’t the owners notice so many of their socks were disappearing and wonder if the dog was the culprit?
Of course, l’m not one to point fingers here. I’m the oblivious woman who failed to notice a pool table falling off the back of my truck a few years ago.
For those of you may have missed the column I wrote about that, here’s a recap: I was driving through town to pick up my sons from school with a heavy box in the back of our truck that contained an unassembled, full-size pool table I’d just gotten in Greenville. When I got to the school, I realized, to my utter dismay, that somewhere between our house and the school, that dadgummed pool table had fallen off the truck and I had no idea where or how. I retraced my route several times, to no avail.
The story had a happy ending, as we eventually got the table back. An honest sanitation crew had seen it slip right off my truck and because our name was on the box, they were able to return it to us. It was none the worse for wear, but I can’t say the same for my nerves. I was tormented by questions about how in the world I didn’t notice that huge box falling out of our truck.
I bet the owners of that sock-eating dog feel like that, too. How could they not have seen their dog snarfing up all those socks?
Have you ever experienced the torment of realizing too late that something bad was happening right under your nose? Or of losing something you had no idea was slipping away?
Do questions like these keep you up at night?:
- How did our marriage get like this?
- How could my child turn out like this?
- How could I have done that?
- Why did I ignore those symptoms for so long?
- Or, the most important question of all, how did I end up feeling so far away from God and His plan for me?
The answer is usually the same: A little bit at a time.
One bad choice at a time. One “I’ll-deal-with-it-later” at a time. One moral compromise at a time. One sock at a time.
Maybe it’s time to take inventory, before all the socks—or much more important things—disappear.
Sadly, we can’t always get our children, our marriages or our reputations back, but thankfully, a new relationship with God is always just a prayer away.
“Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord …” – Acts 3:19