Hello,
My dog, Duncan, has been dealt the worst master
ever….at least in his eyes. He’s a
Gordon Setter, a bird dog. An
instinctual hunter…..living in the home of a master who has never….nor will he
ever…hunt. Nevertheless, he has
not let his hunting instincts die.
He hunts critters around our house: rabbits, squirrels, and the
occasional turkey or pheasant that we encounter on our walks. Unfortunately, he has also set his
appetite on our chickens (of which he has nabbed two) and our outdoor cats, both
of whom are still alive.
Duncan regularly takes his post just
outside the woodshed where the cats make their home. We’ve had them since last summer, and even though we have
tried to teach Duncan that the cats are his friends, he deems otherwise. Every once in a while he will spot one
of them as they are out for their hunt, and when he does he goes catatonic (ha
ha) until he discerns they are
within striking distance and he bolts after them. If they are close to the woodshed, to date they have always
arrived there safely. And if they
are too far away, they run to my pick-up and take refuge in the frame of the
truck.
A couple of days ago when I arrived home
from work, I found Duncan madly circling my truck. Dashing around it, coming to a sudden stop, stick his nose
underneath it, his tail at point in proper hunting technique. I tried to call him away, telling him
that he should leave the cats alone.
He observed his selective listening habit, too caught up in his current
hunt. Around and around the truck
he went, until he’d had enough and decided to slink under it. Crawling on all fours like a trained
marine he made his way toward the animal, when suddenly he stopped his approach
and began wildly barking.
“It’s just the cat,” I said to him walking
to the truck to see if I could coax him out, when all of the sudden there was a
“plop” as his prey dropped from the truck and ran out the other side. With uncanny speed, Duncan reversed
himself from under the truck and took off in mad pursuit, inches behind the cat…..no….not
the cat…a groundhog! Chugging its
stubbly legs it took off into the underbrush of the woods, and so did
Duncan. Down the hill they went
and also out of my sight. I
started calling for Duncan, not knowing if he had snagged the groundhog, or if
the groundhog might have snagged him.
Eventually he heeded my call and he
appeared from the woods, nothing in his mouth and bearing no blood from the
ground hog’s claws. It must have
made it to one of its holes just in the knick of time. Even though the ground hog had escaped
his chase, Duncan’s hunting blood still remained boiling and he sniffed and
stirred around in frenetic fury.
His excitement was contagious, and it caught me. Although I didn’t begin to sniff and
stir, I could feel my senses come alive and thrill enliven my soul.
I didn’t expect such excitement as I came
to the end of our lane when I came home from work. Usually things are pretty tame and pretty routine….and there’s
something good about that. But
every once in a while, usually when I expect it least, upon my arrival I am
delightfully surprised, my heart is jolted by excitement, and youthful energy
percolates through my veins. Those
are times that I am glad I didn’t miss.
I think the same thing can be said about
Sunday morning worship. Most often
it’s pretty regular and routine, and there’s something really good about that
because on those days we experience the swaddling grace of God. But every once in a while at worship….maybe
it’s a song that we sing, maybe it’s a person who’s there who has faithfully
wrestled with life’s trials, maybe it was something that is said in the sermon,
maybe the words at the table “given for you” hit you in a way that they never
hit you before because of the burdens you are carrying…who knows what it might
be. But every once in a while you
find yourself delightfully surprised, your heart jolted with excitement, and
youthful energy pulsing through your veins….and you say to yourself, “I am glad
that I didn’t miss this!”
Have a great week.
God’s grace and peace,
GGAP,
Pastor Jerry Nuernberger
No comments:
Post a Comment