|Bones the Hound.|
Amidst the abandoned Legos, books, and Airsoft guns was a small collection of stuffed animals. All-but-21 (topic for another post), Michael had no interest in saving any of them. Bones was among those headed to the curb in a can.
When he was little, our dogs Carly and Shadow constantly contested Michael for ownership of the Beanies. Based on the number of times I'd rescued a slobbery (or worse) Beanie from a canine's jaws, I knew that our current dog Dakota would find Bones irresistible.
After carrying it around happily for a short while, alas, Bones succumbed to the same fate as other Beanies had in years past. Dakota did what dogs do with a stuffed animal--systematically destroyed it.
She chewed off its nose. The eyes were next, and those holes allowed her to get at the real treasure trove of this now dog toy.
As Bones' guts were spilled--and stepped on and swept up and found later in strange places--I thought about what has been spilling from me these days.
I don't think that's what God has in mind, though, because I can't locate the hole, let alone my needle and thread.
Examining what's going on inside right now is requiring courage. The Bible says that He Who began a good work in me will be faithful to complete it (Philippians 1:6). It's hard to lean in to the process, though. I didn't expect this to be part of the journey.
Bear with me, friends. I apologize in advance for any pellets you may step on as you walk behind me.