One Advent I was gloomy, because several people I loved were struggling with sickness and divorce. Their suffering made it too difficult to gear up for frosted sugar cookies and “Ho! Ho! Ho!” Yet, I was mildly interested in the growing Christmas light competition between two neighbors. And then there was the Golden Retriever, newly acquired by another neighbor.
The Connors, who lived several blocks away, had tethered the handsome guy in their front yard. According to school bus sources he was an early, expensive Christmas present. Shortly after his arrival, a stray dog started hanging around the Retriever. Whenever I drove by the Connors’ house, the two dogs were playing outside, but only one was tethered. Not long after their arrivals, dozens of little flags appeared bordering the Connor’s yard. My family guessed the Golden Retriever was getting invisible fencing. But what about that stray dog?
The next day my faithful bus resources reported the Connors had indeed gotten rid of a dog.
Poor, lowly mutt, I thought, hoping that somebody at the animal shelter might adopt him for Christmas.
The next day, what a surprise awaited me when I drove out of our neighborhood. There, sitting proudly in the Connors’ yard, was the lowly mutt, bathed and groomed. A big red collar adorned his neck. It seemed the Golden Retriever didn’t like the Connors’ hospitality and had been returned to find a more suitable family. “Smokey,” however, loved his new home!
Smokey’s adoption changed my gloomy perspective that Christmas. Surely the baby who had no room in Bethlehem had come to earth so there would be plenty of room for all who were needy. Thanks to Smokey, I was reminded that I was not an orphan and had every reason to hope for a bright future. I remembered these Bible verses:
“But when the time arrived that was set by God…he sent his Son, born among us of a woman, born under the conditions of the law so that he might redeem those of us who have been kidnapped by the law. Thus we have been set free to experience our rightful heritage.
“You can tell for sure that you are now fully adopted as his own children because God sent the Spirit of his Son into our lives crying out, ‘Papa! Father!’ Doesn’t that privilege of intimate conversation with God make it plain that you are not a slave, but a child? And if you are a child, you are also an heir, with complete access to the inheritance” (from Galatians 4:4-7, The Message).
Not long after Smokey’s adoption, another mutt joined him, complete with tags and red collar. From then on, driving by those dogs reminded me of a wonderful truth year-long.
(This blog entry is adapted from a first printing in All is Calm, All is Bright, Fleming H. Revell, 2001; © C.S. Boyll.)
I want to thank Gipper and his family for allowing him to be used as a visual for the Golden Retriever in this story. Gipper is a much-loved, therapy dog, who brings comfort and joy to many wounded warriors.
Also, thanks to Jason Drobeck, who allowed Mom Genie to borrow Bullet and Synchro for a photo session. A big woof and muchas gracias to Genie too.