Learning from a Dog

Over two months now. Two months since I hopped on a plane at one in the afternoon, and arrived in California a little before midnight. Back in the United States, in my home with my family; walking familiar streets, surrounded again by people speaking English (and Spanish and Chinese). I realize two months is quite some time to go without writing anything - to go without even telling you all that I’ve made it back to the states, but honestly, some things take time, and it hadn’t felt right for me to write anything yet. So, I waited and waited for it to feel right, and one day it hit me.

I drove past a dog on the side of the road a few weeks ago. Two dogs actually. On the side of a two lane road – not dirt, but not quite nicely paved either. Golden fields on either side of the road, sparsely dotted with homes here and there – out in the middle of rural California. A few houses lined the street, a produce stand, a couple people walking about, to their tasks. Cars passing by, some moving with us, others headed in their own directions. As we got closer to the dogs, I looked out my window – naturally inclined as I am, to look at all cute animals that happen my way. One was dark chocolate brown, the other light and golden. I thought it odd for them to be reclining so close by the side of the road. But as we got closer and quickly drove past with the flow of traffic, I realized why that was. While the chocolate lab sat vigil, his head up, and tongue hanging out, the golden lab lay without life in his limbs – hit by the side of the road and forgotten. People went about their lives, cars drove by – myself included – and no one even seemed to notice this poor, helpless, innocent dog, lying by the roadside. His only companion, the one sitting steadfastly beside him in harm’s way.

The scene struck me hard, and tears filled my eyes. Not really for the family that had lost their dog, but for the dog itself, in its forgotten state, and for his companion there, sitting so unswervingly beside him, as if still holding on to hope. The chocolate lab sat there, while his friend lay dead, as if, even though already lost, he still wouldn’t leave his side and desert him. The scene struck so hard, I realized, because it’s frighteningly similar to how I imagine God loving us, and standing firmly beside us, even when our spirits are dead and lost. We pass by people every day, without seeing their brokenness; without giving a thought to their need, and yet I know that Jesus is sitting there beside them, and us all, every second of our lives, hoping for us, and praying for us – waiting for us to come back and find life in Him, even when we think we have no chance.

I can’t count on my two hands the times that I encountered such broken and lost souls over the past year, nor, I imagine the number of times I passed such people without even seeing the brokenness. Nor can I count on my own two hands the number of times I felt so hopeless and lost myself. But I’m reminded, by that heart-wrenching scene, that even when we don’t see the brokenness in those around us, Jesus is standing there steadfastly by their side. And even when we’ve lost all hope ourselves, and feel broken to the point of no return, God still holds on to that hope for us, and waits patiently, steadfastly by our side.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Psalm 23:4