I miss Rocky. He was my first dog. Every kid misses his first dog. He remembers the good times that they had together. Running and talking and petting and walking together. So do I. Except I was the 35 year old kid with his first dog. We would go for long walks together and I would talk to him about all kinds of things in my life. Just like a kid. Ha.
Then another dog came into our family. We had to name it. She was a rescue and she didn't have anything. No collar. No identity. Nothing. We said she could stay just until the owners were found. Just as long as she got along. Just as long as she wasn't any bother. Just as long... And wouldn't you know it, over the course of several months, we fell in love with her. And adopted her.
2 dogs? We never planned that. Twice as much cleanup. Twice as much food. But they played together and they interacted with each other to keep each other company. And that was good. (They weren't indoor dogs.) One of the games I miss about Rocky is "Stalking". He was a great stalker. And I could watch him do it so often and so well. He'd make himself as insignificant as possible. Crouch down in the grass (or the snow.) Paws would go down. Body would flatten itself against the ground. And even his head would go right down. He'd practically disappear. But not his eyes. The eyes were as alive and as bright as you've ever seen. They would follow the "prey". (Usually the other dog.) And as they followed the prey, Rocky's body would tense up. Like a spring it would tighten and tense up ready for an explosion. I could watch it from a vantage point of being behind the dog as the back legs would slightly move for grip in the soil.
Suddenly, "BOOM", the spring would release and in an explosion of momentum, the predator would spring and begin a chase that seemed to start from almost immediate high speed. Incredible to watch!
Anyway, I've been thinking about false humility and true humility. And was reminded of my first dog Rocky. None of my dogs can do it like Rocky could. False humility is like a crouching "predator". It pretends to be nothing of significance. Makes itself small and unseen. Tries to look like nothing, but it's really all worked up and focussed on achieving something for itself.
False humility is what I struggle with all the time. True humility is what I need to learn.
Am I willing to take my eyes off my own needs and desires? See the small ways I can serve those around me? See the small things that need doing? See the "small" people around me? Instead of being a servant, being a slave to God?
When you go on medical leave and are diagnosed with cancer people tell you to concentrate on yourself and get better. It's good advice. But too much of that can leave you thinking about yourself and your symptoms and your health. My goal is to give my life away!
Life is an adventure, a journey we travel. And God walks it with us - hand in hand if we let Him. Guiding, shaping, and molding us through the circumstances. I seek to journey more intentionally here.
Friday, July 15, 2005