The Nature of the Beast

Posted on April 5, 2007
Filed Under Uncategorized, Life |

Oh the things that I’ve learned at the hand of my dog Jack. Yesterday, in a rare moment of aloneness, I grabbed my laptop, a glass of wine, and my dog Jack to do some writing on my porch. It was a perfect evening for reflection with the sound of the neighborhood kids’ laughter actually adding to my contentment rather than taking away from it. This is great! After settling in, I was so engrossed in my writing that I hardly noticed when Jack . . . big, black Jack, who had been lying docilely at my feet, became agitated and preoccupied with something across the street. Silly, silly me. Just about the moment I realized his change in disposition was just about a moment too late . . .

In a flash of wind-swept fur, my 80-some-odd pound dog went tearing off of our porch, across the street, and into my neighbor’s yard in hot pursuit of her extra-small, escape-artist dog, Pippin. I hurriedly shoved my laptop to the side and ran, as fast as one can run in flip-flops, across the street to retrieve Jack and to, hopefully, spare Pippin injury. See, while Jack just loves people, he’s got a thing for little dogs that renders him untrustworthy when left to his own governance. And, although Pippin and Jack have met before, it’s been with me or my husband by Jack’s side to closely supervise fang and claw.

Thankfully, I reached Jack and Pippin before any mishaps had the opportunity to occur. What were you thinking, Jack? Bad dog! After wrestling a reluctant Jack back toward our home and into the house, I tried to resume my writing. Sadly, his incessant scratching at the door proved too much of a distraction and I had to call the whole thing off. Drats.

The ordeal, however, was not a complete loss because at the very least it’s blogging fodder and, more nobly, a life lesson worth repeating. There are ares in my life that I like to think I have “tamed” or overcome or mastered, but that are really only dormant, feigning peacefulness the same way Jack did only a split second prior to his bolting off. I’ve discovered, through one compromise or another, that there is a vast difference between putting a thought, an action, or a practice to sleep versus putting it to death.

Galatians 2:20
I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

I have been crucified? Really? My isn’t that something to aspire to! To be so utterly surrendered to the life, character, and lordship of Christ that I, for all intents and purposes, am not even present, but rather Jesus is through me. As much as I long for that kind of God expression in my life, I have learned, sadly, that I can, like Jack, give all appearances of “domesticity” within my Christian faith only to, in an unguarded moment, give in to the wildness that resides deep in my cavernous heart and mind.

What about those thoughts that I entertain and hold on to that don’t reflect God’s truths about me and the rest of His children? How about the language that rolls off of my tongue and falls short of the “fresh water spring” analogy James offered. . . with the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in God’s likeness . . . Ouch! Wildness. Unrestrained wildness. And nothing short of a brutal, complete crucifixion will do to tame the beast that is within me.

A friend of mine once said during a sermon that he begins each day with a funeral service - his. A wise approach for us all. Paul said, for me to live is Christ . . . amen and I wish.

So, back to Jack. No, before you jump to any conclusions, I don’t want to euthanize my dearly beloved dog. I will, however, vow to remember he, at his core, is an unregenerate beast prone to his bestiality who, despite my best efforts to clean him up and make him human, is nothing more or less than a dog. And, a very, very bad one at that! But, oh how I love him!

Peace and Blessings,

Nicole Walters