God's Dog
When I first moved to Espanola, I had a fairly mundane job that demanded a lot of humility from me and of me. It was a good test. And during this period, I began referring to myself as God's Dog. This wasn't derogatory; in fact, it was a recognition that I was beloved. I was someone's favorite thing--and I would be fed and watered and cared for. Because that's how dogs are treated in my family.Here in Espanola it's another story. I have had to witness on my little microcosm of a world, the cul-de-sac La Joya, so many mistreated animals, people, children, wifes, etc. I came home Wednesday evening from an increasingly stressful week and my
neighgor's puppy had been tied up and in distress for so long that it didn't even recognize me--tried to bite me even when I reached to release it from its chain. And in that moment, I realized that I was that dog.
I have been so overwhelmed at work lately that I don't even recognize myself. Snapping at people who are trying to help even as I'm frantically crying out for help--barking and barking and barking.
In that moment of recognition, I simply lost 'it'. You know? It--the ability to measure our responses to things, the ability to hold it together, the ability to relax. I sobbed and sobbed for hours it seems.
And the next morning I realized that I could choose to be God's Dog again--I don't have to be that neglected puppy. I can ask for help--which I'm doing. I can say what I need--which I've done. So God willing and time permitting, I'll be taking a leave of absence later this summer to take care of myself, return to myself.
May each of us
in the gentleness
of our childlike nature
know that we are God's Dog
loved and cared for
in every moment
even the darkest ones
may our cries
always be answered
with an extended hand
to help
to console
and to comfort
and if they aren't
may we learn to comfort
ourselves
in the knowledge
that everything we need
is already within us
may we 'let go and let god'
and may we find relief
in that surrender
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