New Covenant Life

Hubby Ron and I cried a lot the last few days. I’m sad to the core, but I don’t mind, because a big love deserves a big grief. Hubby and I had to say goodbye to our beloved Labradoodle, Dude. Known to many friends as “the Dude,” known to our veterinarian staff as “the Dudester,” and irresistable to all who met him. Strangers who just met Dude would typically exclaim, “What an awesome dog!” remarking on his presence and personality, not just his soft white coat or big happy amber eyes.

We often took him to Lowe’s, which doubled our shopping time because everyone had to stop and pet Dude. In fact, they didn’t know our names, but if we showed up without him, they would ask, “Where’s Dude today?” We were just Dude’s people there, and that was all right with us.

Dude was the most special dog we’ve ever known, and it has been a privilege to share twelve years with him.

I honestly don’t know if dogs go to heaven, or if there is a rainbow bridge. I do know that Dude will go to heaven with me, in my heart, because he did so much to nourish it in the life we shared. When I am in heaven his name will be spoken and our big love for each other remembered.

If you are a pet lover, you’ll enjoy what I’m about to share. If not, read on anyway, because there will be a God-and-life-lesson you could probably benefit from, as I tell you how God and our dog remind me of one another.

The Unconditional Love

If you’ve ever had a dog, you already understand this. Dude loved us unconditionally. If we neglected him in any way — driving off without him, forgetting to feed him, leaving him at the kennel or with friends when we traveled — he got over it quickly. It was clear that the joy of being reunited or all being right between us trumped anything that went before. He moped on a few occasions, such as after our return from a long overseas ministry trip, but even that was short lived. I always took it as a sign of his big love, that he missed us so much he had to let us know somehow that being separated was NOT all right.

He gave more than he asked of us

I think all pet lovers ARE so because of this. While we love the people in our lives, all human relationships demand a lot of us. And they aren’t always wonderful. In fact, the wonderful factor could be upped in just about any relationship anyone has with another.

I’m talking about how the heart feels when relating to that person or pet. We all have relationships that give more than they take away. At least, I hope you have some like that! When you’re with that person, you feel lighter, more restful, more known and valued just for being you. Then there are relationships that take more than they give. When you are with someone like this in your life, you often have to recover from being with them in some way, because they drain you emotionally or mentally.

Some relationships are nourishing, others are depleting. When I began to know God many years ago, I experienced the relationship that always nourishes for the first time. Noticing how it felt to be loved by Him, I wanted to be that kind of person to others. I wanted to be the one who nourished the people in my life, not the one they had to recover from being with.

Dude always gave more than he ever asked of me.

He had to be near us

Dude lived to be in our presence. He had a bed in the living room, where he hung out when we were there. He had another bed at the foot of our bed where he lay at night (though as he got older sometimes he went to bed before we did). When we sat on the deck he had to be near, and when I would work around our large yard, he would come lie as near to me as he could get without being in danger of hit by a hoe. When we were too active for him to take a spot and rest nearby, his eyes were never off of us.

Every morning, I rise first in our household, being an early morning person. As I puttered into the kitchen to make my first cup of tea, Dude would relocate from the foot of our bed to his bed in the living room, a few feet from my prayer place. He quietly watched me brew the tea, wake myself up with a few stretches, check the weather on my iPad for the day, and settle into my prayer place. Once he saw that I was settled, he got up and came as close as he could, nosing me, backing up for a back scratch, throwing his head back occasionally in a happy good morning way.

He was affectionate

When my husband Ron got up a while later, we would always meet at the coffee pot for our good morning greetings. “How was your night?” we would ask each other, then just have a nice long hug. When Dude heard us doing that, he always jumped up from his bed and ran, pushing in between us face first, to be included in our stand-up snuggle.

God has his way of doing that with Ron and me. Those who know our story know that we almost destroyed our marriage three years in — even as a pastor and wife — and God saved it. This happened because the Spirit showed us that while we each had a devotional relationship to Him, weren’t relating to Him together —

praying together, confessing together, studying His Word together.  As we brought God right into the middle of our relationship, he taught us how to really love one another.

Dude is the only dog I’ve known who actually hugged. The first time we were separated from him a few days (when he was still puppy), he ran out of the kennel all excited and put both paws around Ron’s leg, then my leg. We didn’t teach him that.

Lovejoy Bumps

Dude was very expressive, especially when he was happy. And happy was his default. When he and Ron did special things together, Dude always showed his joy to Ron in special ways. For me, it was when we went walkabout together in the garden. As I would walk, he would get a half step ahead of me, and throw back his head against me joyfully, stopping my walk. And he would do this again and again for five or ten steps. I called them lovejoy bumps. His love for me and being with me gave him a joy that he just had to express. I shall miss those every time I go walkabout in the garden now.

Dude’s way of being with me taught me to be this way with my hubby. Sometimes when we’re just hanging out in the living room together I’ll look over and feel a wave of love for him, and instead of just turning back to the TV show we’re watching, I’ll jump up, go to his chair and kiss him, and tell him how much I love him. That is a lovejoy moment for both of us. In our counseling with couples over the years, we saw that people whose relationship was strained seldom looked for ways to deliberately and spontaneously express love to the other, just to give them a moment of joy in being loved.

It is harder to describe how God does this, but I’ve experienced this with the Lord as well. Just walking through my day, once in a while the Lord lets me feel His pleasure in our companionship. I have felt his love and joy in unexpected moments, that nourish me so. Don’t ask me how, for this is one of the mysteries of living with this wonderful invisible Spirit of Christ. But it is very real, and when I began acknowledging to Him that I felt that, and thanking Him, it happened more often. Which leads me to the last point I’ll make about God and Dude in this post.

His lifestyle: waiting patiently

Dude had to wait on us for everything: to be fed, to fill his water dish, to let him outside. He was patient and unobtrusive, always present but never demanding, to the point it was often easy to ignore him. For instance, when he wanted to go out, he didn’t bark at the door. He got up from his bed and sat near you, staring, and waiting for you to notice. If he was hungry, he just lay down near his bowl and waited. When you did notice his need and responded, he was happy, but he didn’t demand it. The only time he did do something like bark for attention was when we ignored him so much he was absolutely desperate. He saved all his barks to warn us of dangerous threats outside like squirrels or stray dogs or strangers coming to the door.

When I was first filled with the Holy Spirit, I began noticing that His invisible self was also quiet, unobtrusive, and waiting to be noticed. We live with a God who doesn’t make us do anything, doesn’t make us be good, doesn’t even make us respond to Him. It is way too easy to ignore Him, though he is with us every moment: attentive, ready to guide and counsel, or comfort. Most of us don’t get handwriting on the wall or the audible voice speaking out of a fierce mountain on fire, thank God. I began to purpose in my heart to live by faith in His constant presence and honor that presence by paying attention, keeping my heart watchful to any interaction He wanted to have.

It has been the privilege of a lifetime to know and love and be loved by Dude the Labradoodle. He taught us a lot about love and joy, nearness and attentiveness, about relationship that leans in to be proactive in loving, and not demanding what we want or even need from others.

I said earlier that Dude would be known in heaven because he nourished my heart, and when I go there, I will remember him to others, as a joy in my life. To me, this is the essence of Jesus’ admonition that we store up treasure in heaven. No physical thing will ever go to that spiritual place, only the spirit/souls of people. The only way any of us store up treasure in heaven is to so love and nourish people here on earth that we remain in their hearts when they go to heaven. Love people well, and you will have treasure in heaven. That’s my take on it.

Thank you, Dude, for being an illustration of God’s gracious, faithful and loving presence! Thank you for teaching us that relationships are best when they are punctuated regularly with mutual delight. Thank you, God, for giving us furry friends who give joy, and only sadness by their leaving.

Dude left too many joyful ruts in our hearts to ever be forgotten.