Search and Rescue

I used to have a Saint Bernard. Her name was Breezy......short for her registered name of Princess Brianna. Ha. I loved that dog. She was always there. If I was afraid in the night, she would lumber around the house with me and make sure that things were ok. If I was sick, she stayed close by. She looked after the kids. Protected our other animals. Really nice dog. She was a rather small Saint Bernard....only a hundred pounds. But nobody wanted to mess with her. Her "mean" bark scared people. Ha. She was a gem who allowed kids to lay on her, a kitten to nurse on her and puppies (that weren't hers) to tug on her ears and jowls.
Having had Breezy, I can totally see how dogs like her can be trained to search and rescue people in the mountains. Their eye sight is not so good, but their sense of smell is AMAZING. In the house, with the windows closed, she would know if a wild animal was outside. And dangit, no matter the time of night or day, she wanted out to protect the premises. A little inconvenient since she couldn't really have a doggy door.......
But, we had to put Breezy down last spring. Let me rephrase, my husband had to take her in because I just couldn't do it. As is common to her breed, she had tumors. One grew to be huge. We kept her through months and months of decline. Still enjoyed her. But eventually it was time to give up my protector. I'm not sure that anyone else even knew how hard that was for me. I loved having her around. When I was alone, just the sound of her heavy breathing was comforting. And her big, heavy step going around the house in the night was reassuring. I could sleep well knowing that she was on alert.
But, life changes. And those who are the big, strong protectors have to move into being cared for and eventually even death. That is so painful. But part of life. Nobody is going to live forever. No, not even you.
But, just like Breezy and her breed, we all have a purpose. No, not a porpoise, a purpose. Not everybody gets a porpoise.
Today as I was driving along.......as all live in the car moms are prone to doing......I was pondering. What is it that keeps people from really living? From being yes people?
Is it an over-developed sense of responsibility? It's like I am living in a nation and a generation of people who live in ruts and are happy about it. Well, maybe not happy, but not willing to change.
If someone asks you if you want to try or do or learn about something, try to say yes. At least a lot of the time. If it's regarding something illegal, don't do so. But, if it's to go to a new place. Or meet new people. Or hear a new type of music. Or travel. Think on it. Don't always think of the 10 best reasons why you can't. Or won't.
You might hate it. You might love it. But, you will have lived a little bit more. You will have a few more experiences. You will touch more lives. You will grow.
Travel. Even if it's to Denver. Spend unplanned time just hanging out. You get to learn about people. Put worries aside. They don't help a bit. Put time into prayer instead. And thinking about blessings. Don't complain. It drains your energy. Don't mope. It drives people away.
What if Breezy had not been what she was created to be? What if she had spent her whole life wishing she was a guinea pig and acting like a guinea pig and moping around because she wasn't a guinea pig? It would have kept her from being the amazing, protective, strong, funny, loyal, easy going, beautiful SAINT BERNARD that she was. She was a search and rescue breed. A worker breed. She was fulfilled when doing those things. She'd keep the squirrels out of our yard. Keep the chickens in their place. Keep the kids in our yard. Keep dogs away from our little dogs. She did what she was made to do and that brought me so much joy. Now, she's gone. But I will always remember her. She did what she was created to do. Simple though it was. She was only a dog, ya know?
Too many of us are not doing what we are created to do. Our culture is becoming like one big blob of sameness.........all in the name of diversity. Go figure how that can be. I cannot figure it out.
Or, maybe I can. We all need to be rescued from the lies and deceptions of our age. Our time. Here's a clue: you can't be everything. You can't HAVE everything. But you can be everything you were made to be. You have been given all of the skills and energy and abilities and smarts and faith that you need to be you. You just haven't been given what it takes to be everyone else. So, if every day is a battle, call to the Rescuer. Let him bring you a little barrel of hope and some warmth. Rest a little. Get renewed. Then, get out there and LIVE. As you. You do know what you do well. Just as surely as you know what you don't do well.
Let me cook. Let me write. Let me ponder. Let me travel. Let me sit at the beach. Let me spend time with individuals (please not large party groups). These things are uniquely me. I crave them as much as I crave food.
Don't make me organize the cupboards. Or, heaven forbid, my closet. Ok, I can do mine, but it will be no gift to someone else if i do it for them. Not my gift. Drives me nutso. I can arrange your furniture, but you better do your own seasonal decorating because I only got Christmas put away about four days ago.
See what I mean? Some of you are going, "I live to do the dishes and clean under the couch." Good. I am glad that we are different. Go out and use your skills in your world. If you knit, go to a coffee shop with some girls and knit away.
Because once you meet the Rescuer, a funny thing happens. He doesn't send out dogs to rescue the people around you. He doesn't even go do it Himself. He uses you. Just like Jesus said He was doing the work of the Father, whatever we are, however we are, whoever we are, we are to be doing the work of the Father. Just like he made us. Sewing. Organizing. Preaching. Hugging. Painting. Camping. Hiking. Walking. Smiling. Reading. REALLY, whatever you do, whatever you are, it's ENOUGH. As long as you actually use it and quit trying to be a guinea pig when you are a Saint Bernard. Or vice versa.
blessings,
rhonda