What does it mean really to do life with God? What does it look like when your kid falls out of her seat, you need a shower really bad, and things couldn’t get any crazier? How do you watch for to God show up in the middle of that?
Thursdays are going to be our God-story days. Stories of how and where we see him show up in both the big and little ways. Join us as we expectantly look for God sightings!
So I have a Great Dane dog named Pearl. That means everything is our dog world is big – very big. Big portions, big bowls, big pillows, big clippers. But that is not all that is very, very big. Did I mention that she is an inside, outside dog? Or that she is getting old? So this morning, we got up and put her outside and breathed a sigh of relief that we had caught her before she did her Great Dane Business in the house on our hardwood floors.
We had a cup of coffee, snuggled the girls and Chuck left early for work. Salem, our oldest daughter, went out to feed Pearl but Pearl quickly rushed in the house. Now the humans in the house think she is coming to get on our bed, which is a very special treat. But she comes in to the bedroom with a panicked look on her face, turns one circle and squats. Walks two steps and squats. And so on.
Life for me began to go into slow motion.
The sweet sounds of our voices singing out “Come on Pearlie, get on the bed” turned into shrieks and yells of “OH NO! Pearlie get out of the house.” And out she did go but not before leaving several land mines both liquid and solid. Did I mention that we have carpet in our bedroom?
But after the door slammed and as the stench rose there was a odd, eerie silence. I realized the girls were looking at me, watching me, waiting to see what I would do. My first action was to become a command center: Open windows. Get vinegar. Get paper towels. Lots of them. But after the scurrying died down and I was on my hands and knees cleaning, I prayed, ‘Lord, give me something more than blowing a gasket.’
I got one word: “Pollyana.” God is so funny.
That is an ANCIENT movie but the gist of the little girl’s philosophy on life was to play the “Glad Game,” where you take every hard circumstance and try to find something to be glad about.
“Well,” I said slowly, “I guess we were planning to get new carpet anyway, right? We can be glad about that.” And the girls caught on immediately. “Glad she didn’t poop on the bed,” said Charis, the little one. “Glad I don’t have to clean that up,” said Salem, the realist. “Glad I have lots of paper towels,” I laughed. And Charis took the prize with “Glad Dad didn’t have to be here to do this!”
Yes, I mused silently, the little darling, he missed all the fun. But then, I found I was even glad about that because had he tarried five more minutes he would have missed a really important celebration with dear friend.
Thessalonians says to “give thanks in all things.” Maybe God really did know what he was talking about. Maybe, just maybe, Pollyanna was on the right track to look for the good and glad in life. Because God lives there.