Lessons from a Dog

While I was praying today, my dog came into my room [the one of "Worse than a Dog" fame]. Without even realizing what I was doing, I put my hand on her, looked into her eyes, and said, "You are so beautiful." I immediately became self-conscious, thinking there was no reason why God would have had me do that. I began to rationalize, thinking maybe what I said would transfer in the Spirit to some kid somewhere. But God had something to show me.
What possessed me to think He wouldn't care about a dog? My natural, fleshly instinct was to argue that a child was more important, and it was a waste to spend time on a dog with so much else to do. That's when it hit me. God doesn't prioritize. He doesn't have to. He doesn't ignore the most insignificant being, like lilies in a field, to go feed starving children in Africa. Jesus made it very clear that I can't even begin to imagine the depth of His concern for little flowers. Yet it's not like He devotes Himself to them at the expense of other things. He is so great and good that He is able to care for us exponentially more than lilies.
As I sat there looking at my dog, I was given a tiny taste of how much God cared for her. The love I felt was almost too much for my human frame to bear. If this is how much God loves my goofy little dog, how much more must He love His children?
You know, when I wrote the poem "Lord, You are Awesome", I couldn't explain why I ended every stanza with that statement. Now I know. As I began to grasp God's love for my dog, all I could say was, "Lord, You are awesome."