Wendy Lanier, author, teacher, and speaker, is a former science teacher who loves sharing the timeless truth of God's Word through the spoken and written word.
CBN.com There she was. I had hoped she wouldn’t be—but the skinny puppy I had seen earlier was still there. I half expected her to bolt when I approached, but instead her tail wagged hopefully. When I spoke kindly to her, she shivered with delight.
Not only did she make no effort to run, but as I got nearer she flopped over on her back in a “scratch my belly, please” pose. It was then I realized she was hurt. Her left back leg hung uselessly at her side. Her stomach was covered with ant bites, and she had so many scabs and abrasions it gave me the willies to stroke her.
I heaved a sigh. If timing is everything, then this was definitely NOT it. We already had two dogs. Our finances were in no shape to accommodate another one, especially not one requiring extensive medical treatment. With both of us working, who would be home to nurse her back to health anyway? And to top it all off, there was an impressively large hurricane out in the Gulf spinning in our direction.
Of course, it was the last fact that made it impossible to walk away. The lessons of Katrina had not been lost on us. We simply couldn’t leave her to face Hurricane Rita alone. There was nothing to do but take her home.
For two days the black lab mix hung out on our back patio while we tried desperately to find someone to care for her medical needs and give her a home. During this time she also acquired a name. Taking our cue from the fact she had been abandoned on Brooks Road, she became “our Miss Brooks.”
By midweek a voluntary evacuation order had been called for our city. The decision was made to “get out of Dodge” with Miss Brooks in tow. Thankfully, our evacuation went smoothly in spite of having three dogs in one car along with our daughter and as many belongings as we could carry.
We were able to leave early enough to avoid the gridlock on the freeways that would be the fate of many others. By late Wednesday we were comfortably ensconced in my parents’ home two hundred miles inland, safely out of the hurricane’s path.
The next morning I took Miss Brooks to a local vet. He took one look at the x-rays and announced she would require an orthopedic surgeon. When he estimated the cost I felt my heart sink. There was no way.
“Is amputation an option?” It sounded drastic, but not as drastic as death.
“Very much so,” the doctor nodded emphatically. “With a break of this kind, even a specialist will make no guarantee. This dog is young. She should adapt just fine. If she were my dog I would spare her the additional surgeries and just take it off.”
With the cost at about a tenth of the other surgery my husband gave his blessing for the amputation. “She deserves a chance and it’s worth that much,” was his observation.
The surgery took place on Friday. On Monday Miss Brooks, minus one leg, came home to be a permanent member of our family. Watching her play with our other dogs, I shook my head in disbelief.
Now I would have three dogs in the house, and that was only if the house was still there when we returned. “Why this dog, Lord? Why now?"
Obviously, the Lord felt this was a teachable moment because there was an immediate answer in my spirit. “Have you noticed how closely she follows you around? She doesn’t let you out of her sight.”
It was true. Miss Brooks gave new meaning to the phrase “dogging my steps.”
“You’re her savior.” I could see that. Without me, she probably would have died in the storm.
“I’m yours. Stay close. Don’t let me out of your sight.” The words rang in my head so clearly, I can tell you exactly where I was standing when this revelation came to me.
It hit me like a ton of bricks. Suddenly our new charge was no longer just a stray puppy. She was a living, breathing object lesson. I stood watching her in awe as I realized God was using her to speak to me in a way I could never have anticipated.
tells us,"It is the Lord our God we must follow and revere. We must keep his commands and obey him; serving him only and holding fast to him."
Similarly,
reminds the children of Israel, and us, to love God, walk in his ways, to obey His commands, to hold fast to Him, and serve Him with our whole heart and soul.Both scriptures contain the admonition to “hold fast.” In other words—keep Him in your sight.
Like many Christians it is never my intention to let God get out of my sight. It’s just that somehow the business of living sometimes gets in the way. Before I know it, I reach the end of my day only to fall into bed too exhausted to do more than whisper a hurried laundry list prayer just before I fall asleep.
While I may not have ignored God altogether during my day, He never really got my full attention either. I let the day slip past without spending any quality time with Him.
“Quality time” is the modern catch phrase that simply means giving someone our undivided attention. Make no mistake. God yearns to spend quality time with His kids.
He would really like it if the feeling was reciprocated. Now, here He was using our Miss Brooks to remind me that He would appreciate a little face time with me on a more regular basis.
As it turned out, this wasn’t the only thing He wanted to show me. There were more lessons from my three-legged pooch to come.
CBN.com In the days before a hurricane comes ashore, those of us who live in coastal communities go on a sort of autopilot. We keep right on working and going to school and generally try to carry on business as usual.
All the while we’re keeping one eye on the Gulf and simultaneously making plans for the possibility of landfall in our area. The plans usually involve stocking up on supplies or making reservations somewhere safely inland. It depends on whether you’re planning to hunker down or turn tail and run.
If there was one thing we all learned from Hurricane Katrina it was there is a fair amount of wisdom in running. (I knew this all along and have been a firm advocate of running for years.)
When it became clear Hurricane Rita had taken a bead on our little part of the Gulf Coast last September, we put our plan into motion. Having relatives who live 200 miles inland makes the decision a no-brainer. We ran.
Adding another canine member to the family is usually not part of the evacuation plan. Especially not an injured canine. And yet, this is exactly what we found ourselves doing in the face of oncoming Hurricane Rita.
There was no question our "Miss Brooks” (as she came to be called because we found her on Brooks Road) was in dire need of saving. Not only was a storm approaching, but she was badly hurt, probably as a result of being thrown from a moving vehicle.
By adding Miss Brooks to the mix, the evacuation thing took on a whole new dimension. I mean one dog is plenty. Two is a bit unnecessary, but three is just over the top to my way of thinking.
As it turned out there was purpose in it. Even while I was still shaking my head in wonder at the situation, the Lord began to speak to me in an unexpected way using Miss Brooks as an object lesson. Now my job was to pay attention.
Shortly after we arrived at the safety of my parents’ home, I took Miss Brooks to a local veterinarian to have her injuries treated. The conversation in the doctor’s waiting room revealed that many of us were in the same boat. We all lived within a few miles of each other and had been chased inland by Hurricane Rita.
Most of the other folks were looking for a place to board their animals. Miss Brooks was the only one who actually needed a veterinarian to have her injuries treated. The conversation in the doctor’s waiting room revealed that many of us were in the same boat. We all lived within a few miles of each other and had been chased inland by Hurricane Rita.
Most of the other folks were looking for a place to board their animals. Miss Brooks was the only one who actually needed medical care. Her extensive injuries would eventually require the removal of her back left leg.
As I shared her story with my fellow evacuees I summed it all up by saying, “We couldn’t leave her there to face the storm alone.”
At the time, I hadn’t given the statement much thought. Those in the waiting room had agreed. To us, being pet owners and lovers, leaving her behind was unthinkable. But it wasn’t until I began to get a sense of Miss Brooks’ true mission in life that the statement came back to mind.
“We couldn’t leave her there to face the storm alone."
Now, as I remembered this, the Lord said, “No child of mine ever faces a storm alone. I am always with you.”
It made me think of the line from an old song, “Be thou our rock, our refuge dear, a shelter in the time of storm.” In the face of our literal storm and all its uncertainty, I was grateful to be reminded. Storms of all kinds are a reality of life, but those of us who know Jesus are able to ride them out in safety.
Psalm 91 tells us He who dwells in the shadow of the most high will rest in His shadow. God is both our refuge and our fortress — we can trust Him. He will never leave us or forsake us (
b), which is a good thing to know when you’re trying to navigate those storms.Once I began to look at Miss Brooks as potential lesson material, I found she had a lot more to tell me. Although too big to be a lap dog, Miss Brooks often insists on being held.
When I hold her she presses herself against me as closely as she can, even reaching for me with her front paws as though trying to pull me into her embrace. One day at her insistence, I picked her up and drew her close. She sighed and relaxed against me, her head on my shoulder.
“In my presence there is peace and contentment,” the Father reminded me.
“I long to hold you close, to soothe your soul, to refresh you. Press in to me. Rest in me."
In
we find an invitation hard to resist. Come, he beckons, and I will give you rest. Those of you who are weary and worn out from your labors will find rest in me and you will learn from me. The burdens of life are heavy. Yoke yourself together with me and I will carry the load.What relief there is in being able to let someone else carry the load. It’s like the old cowboy who lives for the moment at the end of the day when he can finally kick those boots off. Ah. Blessed relief.
Most of us live life at a furiously fast pace these days, even when we wish we didn’t. We run around all day not only carrying our load, but adding to it. How often we could find a soothing retreat in the presence of Jehovah if we would only take the time to visit.
Her place in our family assured, Miss Brooks has settled in nicely. We’ve gotten used to having a three-legged black bullet streaking through the house. And the lessons keep coming.
