Hello,
You may remember that a couple of years ago we went hunting for a puppy to accompany our old dog through the sunset of his life. Duncan is his name. You will be glad to know that at the old age of 12, he’s still pretty spry. Maybe his companion is keeping him young?
We’ve had our once called puppy for a little over two years now. He, like Duncan, is a Gordon Setter. Unlike Duncan, he is a Gordon Setter with notable blood lines. McMahon is his name. Both his mother and father were champions in the ring and in the field. He is a rather statuesque dog, and his alertness is always on high alert. He loves to chase a ball in our back yard, and he even brings it back. His favorite activity, however, is chasing leaves. As the wind scurries the leaves across the ground, he hunts them down, pounces on them, and chews them up. Another favorite pastime for McMahon is stalking the chickens in the chicken pen. They are enclosed behind an electric fence, preventing their death, so McMahon lays and stares at them until one of them moves, and then he leaps into action chasing the chicken around the fence.
Recently, my brother in law who hunts, approached us with the idea of getting McMahon trained to hunt. Figuring that we were depriving McMahon of his natural blood-line instincts it sounded like a great idea. So, we lined up a hunting evaluation for McMahon done by someone who regularly trains bird dogs. This past Saturday was McMahon’s entrée into the hunting world. I had great expectations for him to become a great hunter.
But he failed, miserably. When he got there, he was not very welcoming to the trainer, barking aggressively at him. He was a bit overwhelmed by all the other dogs who were barking at him from their kennels. He was, of course, distracted by the leaves that were all blowing around him on that rather windy day. And when the test birds were released, he only showed passing interest in tracking it down. He failed. Miserably. So badly did he fail that the trainer said that he was “soft”, not exactly a word of desire for a hunting dog. Soft. Failure. McMahon.
But here’s the thing. I still love him. Despite his failure at hunting. Despite his falling short of his blood lines. Despite his puppy-like exuberance. Despite his ill-timed desire for attention. Despite the drool that oozes from his oversized jowls onto clothing. Despite it all…..I still love him. He’s my dog….a best friend.
When I consider my human ability to love my dog beyond my dog’s shortcomings, pestering, and even failure, I find an insight into God’s love for me despite my shortcoming, pestering, and even failure. I know how often I fail. I know how often I desire God’s complete attention. I know what a mess I make of this gift of life that God has given me. Nevertheless, God says that he still loves me. Loves me so much that he would send his Son to die for me so that nothing would separate me from him, and loves me so much that he would raise Jesus from the dead so that I would always be with him.
When I look at my life and who I am, it is hard to believe that God would love one such as I. Of course, God is always at work loving me and seeking to convince me of his love for me….calling me his child, forgiving me over and over again, and nurturing me with grace and mercy. But this weekend, in the light of McMahon’s miserable failure, and my abiding love for him, I have caught another glimpse that there is truth in God’s word of love for me….one who also miserably fails.
For you, too.
Have a great week,
God’s grace and peace, (ggap)
Pastor Jerry Nuernberger
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