Searching
She was of dubious pedigree. Purchased as a full-blooded miniature schnauzer, it seemed obvious as she matured that she was all that - and a little bit more. Her coat was rough, her ears large. What else would you name a dog like that but Daisy?
And Daisy was wholly and dearly loved.
Chief among her admirers was her owner, Adam. As a young boy, his obedience to his chores had earned him enough points that he could have gone on a Toys R Us shopping spree, taken a trip to Six Flags, or get a puppy. He chose Daisy, and from the moment they met, the two were as one.
That's not to say that Daisy didn't have room in her heart for the rest of the Wilson clan, she did. After all, a dog's heart was created to love without limits. But for Adam, she reserved her utmost affection. At night, they'd go to bed together. In the morning we'd go in to wake Adam up, and find Daisy literally wrapped around his head like some sort of four-legged aviator's helmet.
Daisy was personality plus. Her antics kept us all laughing, but she could also be used to great effect to calm anyone down. Holding her in my lap lowered my blood pressure many times. So much so that when I was freaking out trying to balance work, school, church, and family, Bunny would tell the kids "Go get Daisy for your father. He needs a schnauzer break."
For all her awesome personality traits, Daisy had one that drove us crazy.
She'd run away.
We'd take her outside 100 times in a row without incident. But on that 101st trip, if you turned your back, she'd take off. Through the neighborhoods and to God knows where she would go. We would be frantic, scouring the neighborhood calling her name. Sometimes we'd get lucky and find her a couple of blocks over. Other times, though we searched on foot and by car, we couldn't find her. Hour after hour we would look, but it would get dark, and we'd pray that she would be found and promise each other we would look again in the morning. Adam would go to bed in tears as we reassured him that we would find her.
Then she'd come home, wet, muddy, and hungry.
And we'd love her again.
I thought about Daisy today because I was praying about others we know and love.
We've laughed together. We love things in common. When things are going well in their lives, they are great to be around. But they have one trait that relentlessly stalks them - they run away.
Every time they begin to make some progress in their lives, or their relationship with God, something deep within them begins the rebellion. It may be 6 days, 6 months, but one day you look up and they are gone.
And you're scared, it hurts, and you don't know what else to do.
That's when we have to put our faith in Jesus. No one loves the runaway more.
One thing about lost sheep, lost dogs, and yes, even lost people. It can happen again. And again. People get tired. Call it compassion fatigue. Call it a broken heart. But to overcome it, we have to call out to Jesus. Jesus said He came to seek and to save those who are lost. He never stops.
Only a heart like Jesus' can give us the courage - the hope to keep wanting to search when history, family, and friends are telling us to give up. Only a heart like His.
Friend, would you pray with me for a heart like Jesus?
For there are not enough searchers and too many who are lost.
Grace!
David Wilson
--
Visit with me at my blogs:
http://davethepastor.livejournal.com/
http://davethepastor.vox.com/
Or visit New Hope!
http://www.newhopevalp.org/
http://www.mychurch.org/newhope
She was of dubious pedigree. Purchased as a full-blooded miniature schnauzer, it seemed obvious as she matured that she was all that - and a little bit more. Her coat was rough, her ears large. What else would you name a dog like that but Daisy?
And Daisy was wholly and dearly loved.
Chief among her admirers was her owner, Adam. As a young boy, his obedience to his chores had earned him enough points that he could have gone on a Toys R Us shopping spree, taken a trip to Six Flags, or get a puppy. He chose Daisy, and from the moment they met, the two were as one.
That's not to say that Daisy didn't have room in her heart for the rest of the Wilson clan, she did. After all, a dog's heart was created to love without limits. But for Adam, she reserved her utmost affection. At night, they'd go to bed together. In the morning we'd go in to wake Adam up, and find Daisy literally wrapped around his head like some sort of four-legged aviator's helmet.
Daisy was personality plus. Her antics kept us all laughing, but she could also be used to great effect to calm anyone down. Holding her in my lap lowered my blood pressure many times. So much so that when I was freaking out trying to balance work, school, church, and family, Bunny would tell the kids "Go get Daisy for your father. He needs a schnauzer break."
For all her awesome personality traits, Daisy had one that drove us crazy.
She'd run away.
We'd take her outside 100 times in a row without incident. But on that 101st trip, if you turned your back, she'd take off. Through the neighborhoods and to God knows where she would go. We would be frantic, scouring the neighborhood calling her name. Sometimes we'd get lucky and find her a couple of blocks over. Other times, though we searched on foot and by car, we couldn't find her. Hour after hour we would look, but it would get dark, and we'd pray that she would be found and promise each other we would look again in the morning. Adam would go to bed in tears as we reassured him that we would find her.
Then she'd come home, wet, muddy, and hungry.
And we'd love her again.
I thought about Daisy today because I was praying about others we know and love.
We've laughed together. We love things in common. When things are going well in their lives, they are great to be around. But they have one trait that relentlessly stalks them - they run away.
Every time they begin to make some progress in their lives, or their relationship with God, something deep within them begins the rebellion. It may be 6 days, 6 months, but one day you look up and they are gone.
And you're scared, it hurts, and you don't know what else to do.
That's when we have to put our faith in Jesus. No one loves the runaway more.
Jesus used this illustration: 4 "If you had one hundred sheep, and one of them strayed away and was lost in the wilderness, wouldn't you leave the ninety-nine others to go and search for the lost one until you found it? 5 And then you would joyfully carry it home on your shoulders. 6 When you arrived, you would call together your friends and neighbors to rejoice with you because your lost sheep was found. 7 In the same way, heaven will be happier over one lost sinner who returns to God than over ninety-nine others who are righteous and haven't strayed away!
One thing about lost sheep, lost dogs, and yes, even lost people. It can happen again. And again. People get tired. Call it compassion fatigue. Call it a broken heart. But to overcome it, we have to call out to Jesus. Jesus said He came to seek and to save those who are lost. He never stops.
Only a heart like Jesus' can give us the courage - the hope to keep wanting to search when history, family, and friends are telling us to give up. Only a heart like His.
Friend, would you pray with me for a heart like Jesus?
For there are not enough searchers and too many who are lost.
Grace!
David Wilson
--
Visit with me at my blogs:
http://davethepastor.livejournal.com/
http://davethepastor.vox.com/
Or visit New Hope!
http://www.newhopevalp.org/
http://www.mychurch.org/newhope
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