Well, sort of.
Right now I’m in California visiting my brother and sister-in-law, and yesterday we all went to the pound to adopt a puppy! She is a 4 month old black lab named Isobel, “Izzy” for short, and she is awesome! Possibly the coolest dog in the world…second only to mine. 🙂
The first 24 hours of having her have been a relative walk in the park because she had minor surgery yesterday morning, and since that time she’s been completely doped up on anesthesia. She slept the entire ride home, and then plopped down on her bed as soon as we got her inside.
The only time she came close to moving at all last night was when we would sit down beside her, and she would enthusiastically wag her tail in response. But as flattering as that felt, I think the wagging was less a sign of her affection for us, and more a side effect of the drugs–if she could talk, she probably would have been saying something along the lines of “I love you, man! No really, I LOVE you!”
Needless to say, we’re not entirely sure what her personality will be like once she emerges from her drug induced haze, but so far she seems like a real sweetheart.
I have never adopted a dog from the pound, so this is all a new experience for me, and it’s been very thought provoking. We were told that about 90% of dogs that end up in the pound are there because their owners had problems with them. Maybe the dog was aggressive, or barked too much, or peed all over the place, and so on. For all of these reasons and more, pet owners cast off their animals into fate’s hands. Maybe another family will adopt them, but maybe not.
Given that background, Izzy’s story is one of tremendous fortune. Not only was she rescued from possible death, but she was delivered from a horrible environment into the lap of luxury. In the home of my brother and sister-in-law, she is now loved unconditionally, and every one of her needs is attended to. She will never have to worry about food or water or shelter, and she will always be safe. She was loved before they even met her, and the rest of her life is secure.
Well as I sat next to little Izzy this morning watching her sleep, I thought about how her short life has been a beautiful story for Easter. Hers is a tale of being unloved, rejected, and handed over to possible death. But then, due to no action of her own, she was suddenly plucked from that state and delivered into the hands of someone who loved her, but not because of anything she had done, and will take care of her for the rest of her life. It is a perfect picture of redemption in Calabasas, CA.
Now I know this analogy is bordering on cheesy–something you might find in Reader’s Digest or Chicken Soup for the Soul, but the reason I mention it is that this would have been a great Easter story, regardless of what time of the year it transpired. You see Easter is not something that happens once a year. While it is indeed important to set aside a special day to focus on Christ’s death and resurrection, the story of Easter is something that happens every day of the year. Everywhere around us, God is bringing His salvation into the world, and everywhere around us He is working out redemption. Every moment contains a sign post, an echo, a whisper of what is to come–we must simply look for it.
So yes, mourn Good Friday and celebrate Easter Sunday, but don’t stop there. God has created a world that shouts to us the goodness of His grace and love. Yesterday I found it in an L.A. County dog pound. I’m sure I will find it some place new today, if I only look.