Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Laughing with Lily

I've read about therapy dogs and even watched a show once called, "Miracles Pets." But I'd never experienced the healing impact an animal can have in your life until this week. As I giggled in the dark, waiting for sleep last night, I was so glad my parents have a new dog.

Thirty minutes earlier, I'd sat on the stairs and scooted up backwards, one step at a time. By the time I reached the top, my right hip muscle burned with fatigue. Drained from the monumental effort, I didn't know how to stand.

Lily, my mom's new puppy, darted around my tired body. Reaching the second floor of the house was an adventure for her. She sniffed the carpet around me and ran up the hall, urging me on. I tried to stand, but couldn't figure out which body part could handle my weight.

Befuddled by the predicament, I was thankful when mom turned the corner with a rolling chair. I pulled myself into the chair and laughed as she wheeled me down the hallway to her guest bedroom. It was funny - almost.

Mom and Lily said goodnight and headed back down the stairs. As I lay in bed with my foot high on pillows, I began to wonder when I'll be able to return to normal life. Since getting up one flight of stairs had wiped me out, I worried about how I'll manage once home. I've spent days and nights on my mom's sofa to avoid the stairs. But I've almost been gone a week. The ankle is healing, but other joint issues have been exacerbated in the process.

As I lay in the dark trying to turn my thoughts to prayers, I heard the soft pitter-patter of Lily's steps. She'd escaped from mom's bedroom, run across the living room, and bolted up the stairs. She scurried down the hall and with a flying leap, landed on my face, licking me as if she'd found her long, lost friend. I forgot my worries and laughed as Lily celebrated her escape.

Soon I heard mom's soft movement on the steps. With her own smile, she took Lily back to her room where she sleeps for the night.

And after a good nights rest, my legs worked a little better today. I've still a long road to recovery. But laughing with Lily and cuddling close to her soft fur has added a distinct sweetness to the journey.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Chasing Shadows

I've been staying at my folks since surgery last Thursday which has given me ample time to bond with Lily, their new puppy. Lily can be calm and cuddly or comic relief - depending on her mood. We've napped together several times. She's licked every corner of my face and hands more than once. And I've watched her chase shadows for much longer than I expected.

When sunlight pours through the windows, reflections on the oriental rug next to where I rest captivate her. She races around the rug chasing shadows, digging at shadows, and even barking at them at times. I'm humored by her persistent pursuit of grey adumbrations. It's cheap therapy.

But while I watched her the other day, I thought about all the mental shadows I chase, all the worries I entertain. And I imagined God being as stumped by my obsession with worry as I am with Lily's need to dig at shadows.

It's easy to shake my head and say, "Silly girl, your digging at nothing! You're mesmerized by mere sunlight dancing on the floor." But then I wonder what God would say to me,"Oh princess daughter of mine, trust what you can't see. Trust this day to me. Don't allow simple shadows to disrupt the flow of peace I long to send your way."

So as I heal during this busy time of the year, I'm going to try to stop chasing shadows of doubt and purpose to trust the God of light who shines on us each day. Laying on this sofa nestled close to a wall of windows, I will bask in His light instead of fretting in the dark.

"Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord rises upon you. See darkness covers the earth and thick darkness is over the peoples, but the Lord rises upon you and his glory appears over you."
(Is. 60: 1-3)