A Fur Mom’s Love
Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. Psalm 139:7-8 (NIV)
Only once in my life have I ever been snowed/iced in for days without electricity. It was an experience of survival for me and the two dogs. We melted snow to drink and thankfully there was a wood stove that we could use for some bare-bones cooking. The food in the freezer on the porch never melted because it was single digit temps. I survived and so did Cathy Mayfield (All God’s Creatures) whose message is about how much God loves us.
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BRRR! Day four with no electricity, no heat, and subzero temperatures. Winter storms had hit hard, leaving twenty thousand people in the same predicament. My husband could leave every day and go to work in warm customers’ offices, drinking coffee. But not me, not our dog.
And there lay the problem. No family could allow me to bring the dog if I came. Oh, they loved him, but one’s landlord didn’t allow pets. Two others had dogs of their own. Another’s community allowed registered pets only.
Today’s twenty-nine degrees had me layered up—three shirts, two pairs of pants, hooded sweatshirt, hat gloves, and several fleece blankets. I wasn’t toasty, but I stopped shivering occasionally. Bundled in my rocking chair, I couldn’t write because the computer’s battery had run down, and I couldn’t hold a pen with my shaking, glove-covered hands.
And Kenai! Poor baby! He had his heavy winter coat, but it didn’t afford much help in this frigid house. Plus, his bones had always minded the cold, and he often groaned when he moved. I’d put his thickest blanket on the couch and used extra ones to cover him.
The problem? Kenai is not a dog to stay put. He likes to move around—couch, daddy’s chair, his memory foam bed. Whenever he got up and changed places, I disentangled myself from my cocoon to move his blankets with him. EVERY TIME! At one point, I laughed aloud at the seeming senselessness of this activity…see Kenai move…get out and cover him to keep him toasty…get settled in…and do it again.
Yet isn’t this just like God? Every time we move away, He stops what He’s doing and draws closer to us, keeping us near to His warming love. I’m guessing Kenai knows I love him. Just as I know God loves me.
I could feel the warmth of His presence as if a soft blanket had been wrapped around my soul, around my heart. — Colleen Houck
Ever-loving God, thank You for the life lessons You teach us through real-life events and Your creatures. AMEN.