A few moments of pause. I slip into the prayer window to
share the seat with Indy. She welcomes me with a purr, which rattles her frame with
warmth and a quiet joy. I have no agenda; my Bible notes are in the bedroom. I
am just here. Just here to connect with God.
My eye is drawn to the old tennis ball, lurid green, which
has sat for days on the grass verge beside the drive. And that draws my
thoughts back to Dusty, such a delight, such a companion, so missed still, even
six years after her death.
I smile as I think of her dropping that ball at my feet, at
anyone’s feet, raising hopeful, pleading eyes as she settled into a starter’s
position. Ready. Always ready.
So much joy that pooch brought. So much laughter. She didn’t
have to do anything. She just had to be herself. We all loved her for the
gentle, loving canine she was.
I drop my heart at the Saviour’s feet. My eyes search for
his face; my ears strain for his voice; my voice begins to praise. My Jesus. My
Saviour. Lord, there is none like you.
I don’t have to do anything today to earn his love. I just
need to be all that he made me to be. Creative. Loving. Compassionate. Joyful.
Trusting. With his help, I will try to manage that.
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