I’ve found that the very best way for me to inject a little humor into this often-heavy blog is to share stories of my fur babies. And more often than not, Maisy is the main character. But I do always look for some spiritual application, even if it’s a bit of a reach. Like it might be today!
You likely know that Maisy is a tad on the crazy side. More energy than I can ever handle. So wish I could bottle that and use some for myself.
One of the “activities” I’ve shared with my dogs down through the ages is letting them go ballistic with the leftover cardboard tube from the paper towel roll. Maisy has even figured out that loosening the “bolt” on the top of the paper towel holder is the precursor to some big-time fun.
Last week, as I was doing just that, both dogs were jumping around in anticipation of all the joy. I threw it at them and off they both ran into the family room to jointly rip it to shreds.
Maisy apparently got a little over excited (shocking, I know…) and came flying into the kitchen where I was standing next to the counter. On her fly-by, she jumped up on the STOVE for a nanosecond and then continued back to the family room. (Fortunately I wasn’t cooking on it at the time.)
WHAT??? Mind you, she’s only 25 pounds and stands about 15-16 inches tall. She just took her athleticism to a whole new level.
Those of you with pets may be familiar with the term “zoomies.” If not, it’s a spell that comes over an animal which causes them to tear around the house, and often over furniture, at a super-sonic speed. Scientists have not been able to determine a cause…
As I was chatting about this crazy scene with several friends, one commented about how Maisy had now added vertical zoomies to her repertoire. Hence the flash across my stovetop. That’s the perfect description. Too bad I couldn’t capture it on video.
As I was trying to figure out a way to incorporate this story into something relevant to Christian living, God came through once again. He must also get a kick out of this Miss Sassy Pants he created!
In the world of Christendom, we often talk about having horizontal and vertical relationships. Horizontally is how we relate to those around us. Vertically is how we relate to God. Pretty straightforward, right?
So here’s the connection (which I’ve already acknowledged is a bit of a reach): Where do we run first when trouble finds us? When tragedy or disaster strikes? When we need a friend to listen compassionately? When we want to celebrate an accomplishment? When our heart is overflowing with joy? When we’re confused? When we have no strength left to even ask a question or pray a prayer?
I am so often guilty of rushing (zooming?) first to my friends – horizontally. Are they a great source of comfort and kindness and insight? Of course. They could fulfill every one of those questions I just posed. And God indeed wants us to be blessed by those friends, and turn to them in time of need.
But should that really be our first choice? Or should we run or walk or even crawl to the feet of Jesus when we need anything?
Again, I must confess that, even if I’ve taken the vertical path and turned to God for his incomparable help, I would say I rarely “zoom” to him. But I so love the picture of that, don’t you!
When any event or emotion causes a stir in my heart, I want to zoom straight up to God, who already knows what’s on that heart and is more capable of bringing comfort or sharing joy than any one of us humans.
Like virtually every other Christian discipline, it requires exactly that – discipline – to move it into the realm of habit. I don’t naturally run to God first, but I do know that the more I catch myself going horizontal first, and make that directional change, the more it will become a natural response to whatever happens in my life.
Perhaps my crazy Maisy, as she tears around the house (but not on the stove), can serve as a reminder to me, and to all of us, of where our help comes from.
I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come?
My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.
Psalm 121:1-2