My Dog

She has a black wet nose. She wants to please. There are certain things she does understand. She sits. She speaks. She finds her toy. She gets the newspaper. She wants to do more but there is so much she does not understand. When talked to she sits and listens attentively. She cocks her head and looks quizzically saying, “Can’t you bark that to me?” But there is a barrier.

Sometimes our noses are wet. We want to please. There are certain things we do understand. We sit. We speak. We find toys. We can read the paper. We want to do more but there is so much we do not understand. When God talks to us we sit and listen attentively. We too cock our heads and look quizzically through the pages of the Bible saying, “Can’t you speak more plainly to us?” But there is a barrier.

Hopefully as my dog grows older she will understand more. Hopefully as we grow older we will understand more. For now we see as through a dark glass. We catch glimmers of movement on the other side. There is hope. In 1 Corinthians 13:12 we read, “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

Perhaps my dog will never understand, but we will.

Written March 25, 2002