Doggie Doors

There are times when writing a devotional that I am as surprised at the end results as some of the people who are reading it for the first time. Those are the times when a brief idea has come to me and as my fingers engage with the keyboard some profoundly simple concept leaps off the page at me. Other times, an idea develops over hours, days, weeks - in today's case - years.

I turn again to the spiritual training the Lord has accomplished through basset hounds. Today's subject is free will.

Coming into our home as a precious little bundle of ears and feet, Sam had our constant attention. That was partially because he was so cute and partially to protect the carpet from puppy puddles. As he grew, we intensified our attention for the daily/hourly search and rescue missions to extract whatever it was he was chewing on that was never intended to engage with a puppy digestive system.

As difficult as bassets are to train, Sam was remarkably quick to be house broken. Thinking that our lives would be easier we installed a doggie door, giving Sam the freedom to come and go on his own schedule. Perhaps that was what God was thinking when he gave man free will.

It wasn't long before the doggie door became a source of irritation for me. At night Sam would let himself out to survey his kingdom. But, not content to just sniff around the yard, he would find a frog, and I would find myself out in my nightgown trying to end his incessant barking at the poor thing.

When Sam wanted to play, he would grab whatever was closest to him that he was not supposed to have and, looking to make sure I knew he had it, would then run out the dog door to see if I would chase him. Usually, I did. A skein of yarn, a half-knit sweater, my reading glasses, Jerry's cell phone - they all made the journey out the dog door. I would race after Sam, threatening to kill him if I ever caught up to him.

One night, as Jerry and I were getting ready for bed, we heard a tremendous racket coming from the living room. Sam was taking his dog bed out the dog door. Not imagining that he would accomplish the feat, we laughed and left him to his task. After a couple of minutes and some really loud noises, things quieted down. As a mother, I know that when things are quiet you need to go check on the situation. Sam had accomplished his mission. His dog bed was now in the middle of the back yard and he was contentedly sitting on it. I suppose it was the basset equivalent of a first camp out.

Growing in wisdom, one day it dawned on me that we had given the dog door and we could take it away. Sam could only disturb my sleep if I permitted him to do so. The doggie door was closed and a crate was purchased. Sam now sleeps in his crate at night and is allowed access to the doggie door if and when it is OK with me. His free will is gone, but my good night's sleep is back.

Looking at the way man has abused free will in our relationship with the Lord, it is amazing that God has not taken it back. Still, sin has established a "dog door" between us and God. Without Christ, the door is closed and we are sleeping in the crate.

Today is the National Day of Prayer. Remember 2 Chronicles 7:14
"If my people who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land. "