Maybe it’s time to give you an update on Bebe, my eight-inch-tall live-in dog. First of all, understand I am not a little dog person. I want my dog to be at about the height to be petted when she stands beside me. Eight inches? Nope. Not for me.
Nonetheless, she has been in my life since just before Easter. She needed surgery and then a home where she could recuperate in safety and love. So, she’s here. That surgery went well, and she is back to full speed, whereas she was not even allowed off leash for two weeks after surgery. However, one surgery was not enough to take care of the entire problem and she has another scheduled.
Right now, she goes to church with me every Sunday and even the smallest toddlers dearly love her. Even though she has not had training to become a certified therapy dog, I also take her to visit my former roommate at the assisted living home where she now lives. Bebe loves that! When we leave the front entrance and head back for the visit, she fairly dances due to her excitement.
Bebe loves to go where I go, and if that involves a car ride, that’s even better.
Sounds like the perfect dog, doesn’t 1t? Well, don’t be too hasty with that declaration.
Now, remember, I’ve never had a little dog before, so I was (and still am) on a learning curve about her feeding. She wants lunch added into her schedule whenever I have mine. Not a problem. The problem lies in finding something she likes. I tried everything on the store shelves but getting a food she would eat regularly just didn’t work. She is now eating a gruel over just a wee serving of kibble. The gruel? I have to cook that!
Housebroken? Yes, but on her schedule. That would be fine but she has no interest in telling me when she has to go! As soon as I put down the rug in front of the shower, she is sniffing it and soon uses it even if she doesn’t truly have to go.
She is not a “morning person” either. After our first trip outside in the morning, she is ready to curl up for a nap or just to watch me fix my own breakfast. Her breakfast is out and waiting for her but she will get to it in her own good time.
No, she’s not the perfect dog. I forgive her for that.
But by the same evaluation, I am not the perfect Christian either. Though being housebroken is not a problem, there are lots of other places where I need more training.
With no roommate any more, who can I blame when my surly self gets obnoxious? When it’s only Bebe and I in the house. Whose fault is it that I don’t get very much done in a day’s time? And the list goes on. At bedtime I discover I failed to spend time in my daily devotions. Who can I blame?
But I (and you, too) serve a very understanding and forgiving God. He is eager for us to come to Him to admit our faults (sins!) and is just waiting to forgive and forget if only we talk to Him about it.
So, no! I’m not the perfect dog any more than Bebe is. But just like her, I know where to go when I need to be forgiven and cuddled. Through Jesus Christ, I have ready access to my heavenly Father just as you do.