Holly, the trusted chocolate chunk, had a doctor's appointment this morning. It was time for her rabies and distemper shot.
Holly loves us. She wakes up to every new day with a simple desire to be petted and to be with us. She rubs her head on our legs, sits at our feet when we rub her ears, and gives in to the sheer delight of our touch. She is unconditional love with a pink collar and an overactive wagging tail that whaps us constantly. As I sit and type right now I just heard the question I hear about 20 times a day, "Can Holly come in?"
I know without a shadow of a doubt that I am not a theologian. I get tangled up in deep thoughts. I can go for a while but then something always reaches out, wraps me up and I fall down.
This morning, during a quiet moment I read,
"Are you trying to be who Jesus wants you to be? Or do you trust him to bring out who he has already created you to be? It is vital to recognize the difference between these two questions because one leads to death, the other leads to life." (Emily Freeman, Grace for the Good Girl)
These words were like a flashing siren. As of matter of fact, yes, I am trying to be who Jesus wants me to be. What does trusting him to bring out who he has already created me to be look like? Especially on a Saturday when the van needs cleaned, the bathrooms need cleaned, the carpets need vacuumed, laundry needs done and supper needs planned and prepared. This is where the familiar vine reaches out, tangles me up and down I go.
Her words seem right and true, but when I look for more words to explain the process, what trusting looks like on a Saturday afternoon, I don't find anything. Nothing. Please have more. I need more, a step by step plan, a list. How do I trust him to bring out the real Kris? Do I just sit on the couch and wait? Do I do all the things I see that need done? What? How? Where? Help!
Amidst all my tangled thoughts, Holly, the crazy, chunky, chocolate doggie, pops into my head. She simply wants to be where her people are. She loves us because she does. She wags, whaps and loves because she does.
Yes, I know she is a dog.
Maybe there is no connection between her unconditional love and my questions about trusting.
Maybe there is.