Blessed to be a Pound Dog

Blessed to be Ain't Nuthin' but a Pound Hound Dog

“No!” pouted my three year old, “I don’t want a dog! It’s going to lick my face! I want…
I want a turtle instead!”  Honestly, I was inclined to agree. When our family went out on a stroll
through the neighborhood on one balmy Sunday afternoon, the thought of a dog was not thrilling to
me either. A turtle...well, that I could live with. I was no stranger to exotic pets. I had owned a fierce
ferret named Ishido, a clammy iguana that never got named due to its’ unfriendliness, 6 baby goats
who thought I was their mother,  a wolf spider my older son caught at Scout camp and a boring
tarantula that was the result of successful begging at a school science night.

But a dog...I just wasn’t sure.

Having grown up in Jamaica, I was very familiar with having dogs, but they did not live inside the
house and they certainly never licked my face. The thought of a dog in the house was daunting to
say the least. But by the end of that notable Sunday afternoon walk, the turtle was out and the dog
was in - with lots of promises that no faces would get licked that didn’t want to.

Enter Zoey. Her sweet face practically leaped from the dog rescue website.
She was a border collie and we think pit bull mix and she looked like Martha from the PBS cartoon,
Martha Speaks. She was just perfect for us. Aside from once eating a whole bag of  Dum Dums,
she was the most obedient and likeable dog. She lived to please us, as dogs tend to do.
When no one else noticed I had come home, there was Zoey, welcoming me home with wagging
fervor… and yes, a few licks. She was loved and she knew it and she dedicated herself to letting
us know how much she loved us.

So my sweet Zoey has caused me to think a lot about Jesus.

Ummm...Jesus?

Yep. Jesus.

We hear so much about religion and the “thou shalt nots”. We hear sermons about not judging and
holiness and loving others - it’s all overwhelming to figure it all out.

But it’s not. Because Jesus really wants us to be just like Zoey. That rescued pound dog who is so
delighted to have a forever Master to call her own.

When Jesus told us the Great Commandment he said, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart,
mind, soul and strength, then go love your neighbor as yourself.”

So in reality, we kind of gloss over loving God like that because it’s really hard to know how. That’s
where Zoey comes in.

Imagine that you are an average dog, and you end up in a kill shelter. Unless someone intervenes,
your fate is sealed and there’s nothing you can do about it. One day someone walks in and you are
exactly who they want, and as they scoop you up and wile that kill shelter fades into the background,
someone is tickling your ears and telling you how much they love you. There’s even a sweet little boy
that eventually allows you to lick his face.

So you're in their new house, and you realize that you’re not just a temporary guest but you’re a part
of the family. You have a favorite spot on the couch, and you love going for walks and hanging out
with your people. You learn their ways and you realize quickly that eating Dum Dums is not
something they really want you to do. And even though those Dum Dums are so good,
somewhere in the back of your mind, you realize they said no for your own good.

And you are so grateful...because someone loved you enough to save you and make you a
treasured part of their family.

And you love them back with all your heart!  You run to the door when they come home.
You sit beside them even when they watch shows about cats. You love the people they love, even
the sweet boy who decides you’ve had enough licks for the week...or month.

It’s not a perfect translation… but isn’t this analogy true for us who call ourselves followers of Jesus?

We’ve been rescued.... and we we didn’t have the resources to be part of the process.

We’ve been adopted into a family that loves us… even though they didn’t need us.

We’ve been lovingly instructed about how to become a contributing member of the household.

That reminds me of something...

So, when I went to college, I learned to swear...a lot.  I had not done so growing up but once in the
college atmosphere,  I really found the words to be amazing adjectives to most of what I wanted to
say. I wasn’t even trying to be obnoxious, I just really  liked how it sounded.

But, towards the end of my college experience when I truly met Jesus and experienced His
salvation, I saw a verse that said, “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths,
but only what is helpful for building others up according to the needs, that it may benefit
those who listen.” (Eph 4:29-30). There were others with this general instruction including
not taking God’s name in vain.

I was guilty.

I was convicted. I wanted to please this Jesus who rescued me and called me His own.

I stopped swearing.

Now am I perfect in this? Of course not. Do I try? I do. I don’t want to demean Jesus or
anyone else with my words.

As I look through this instruction book called the Bible, as I pray and ask God to shape and
change my heart to look more like the One who rescued me, I struggle.

Daily.

The world around me is often telling me the exact opposite.  I need to ask for help from
God’s Spirit that is given to me for that purpose. And He does. He always does.

I know that even though there are instructions I don’t want to follow (bless those who curse
me...uhh why?), I ask for understanding, and a heart of obedience.

One of my favorite verses is  Ps 40:2 “He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the
miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure.”  I LOVE that. It’s King
David realizing he was also a rescue at the hands of a God who showed him mercy.
It’s also... me, realizing I am a rescue who was shown mercy. I pray my every day is a
grateful response to that mercy.

Oops… hold on. There’s a dog licking my face.