Let me start with a confession. When I opened my laptop tonight, I had every intention of writing a tribute to my dog, Rebel. I didn't want to, though. At this moment, Rebel is laying on his bed less than ten feet from where I lay on the couch, and he's dying. My husband is sleeping next to him, and my daughter is sleeping not far away. Two of our other four dogs are also sleeping within a few short steps from Rebel. We've spent the last five hours crying, praying, and crying some more. Now I am the only one awake, and I don't know what to do with myself - so I decided to write. Writing Rebel's tribute seemed like the obvious answer, but my entire body resisted. If I write his tribute now, will it seem like a premature obituary? What about the tribute I already wrote to him over a year ago-before he was sick? Am I really ready to write something that could be construed as his eulogy? The answer was a resounding no. Still, I knew I needed to write. I didn't know what else to do with myself, so to my computer I went. I resignedly logged into my blog ready to write the only thing that came to mind, and then I realized that my last post was a tribute to Rosie. I stopped, I read, and I realized now is not the time to write about Rebel.
Here's what I'll say instead: I've prayed all night long, and I haven't felt an answer. I can't hear God's voice, and opening my Bible did not bring about any powerful feeling of connection or warmth. I've spent the last five hours feeling inconsolably separated from my faith when I felt I needed it most. Why wasn't God talking to me? Why could He help me find my keys this afternoon, but He couldn't be with me now? Then I opened my own blog and realized I was trying to listen when I should be trying to feel. In reading my own writing, I thought of my friend Rebecca's recent blog about her own dog passing and how she turned to her Bible. I then thought of my friend Starla's words today about how to devote myself to reading my Bible, and I realized God was ready to talk to me all along; He was just waiting for me to be ready to feel His word and listen to His message.
Let me start with Starla's message. Starla advised me to read the psalm and the proverb that matched the date of the month. "For example," she said, "today is the 23rd, which means the 23rd Psalm, but you know what that is." Now Starla has been an amazing guidepost to me of late, whether she knows it or not. She demonstrated the kind of fervent prayer I would like to engage in on a regular basis. She showed me unconditional enthusiasm about her faith that emanated joy, celebration, and praise. What she doesn't know, however, is that I had no idea what the 23rd Psalm was. Not a clue. I didn't tell Starla of my ignorance this afternoon, and by this evening I had moved on to other thoughts. Then Rebel's problems began.
Starla's words came back to me when I most felt I needed to hear God's words. I opened to the 23rd Proverb, but I felt nothing. I then opened to the 23rd Psalm, and I realized God's word had been there all along, and He used Starla to lead me to them. In my tribute to Rosie, I mentioned going to the Children's Chapel in my church because I didn't know where else to go. I prayed with my coworker, and I focused on the walls instead of the cross. Each wall was covered in handwritten messages from kids who had been there before me, but I focused on the one typed message: the 23rd Psalm. Tonight, as I mourn a different dog in a different manner with a different feeling of loss and regret, I return to the same words.
"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters; He restoreth my soul; He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake."
Tonight I need to focus on God. He will answer my prayers. He will take care of me, and He will take care of Rebel. He will take Rebel to Heaven when the time is right, and He will comfort me as I mourn my best friend. His green pastures and still waters will be there for Rebel when Rebel enters Heaven, and the Lord will reunite me with Rebel when the time is right.
"Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."
I've recently heard many debates on whether or not animals go to Heaven. One woman even advised me to search the Bible for written proof that pets do not go to Heaven because she was so certain I would not find any such answer. I did not seek my answer from the Bible, but I also have my answer just the same. God loves me. God loves my family, and God loves my dog. Dogs are living proof of the kind of selfless, loving, unprejudiced personalities we should all strive to have. Dogs in many ways are images of the kind of Christ-like dedication for which we are meant to aspire. If God rewards His children with eternal life, and God rejoices when we follow Him with an uncluttered heart, then God has also given us dogs as examples of how to be the loyal, dedicated followers He desired. As followers, my dogs will follow Him to Heaven. To me, all of this means that I will fear no evil for the same God who takes care of me will also take care of my dog.
"Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over."
I've said it before and I'll say it again: Rebel is an amazing blessing. We've been through everything together. Rebel and I lived together over a thousand miles away from everyone else we knew. We've driven all around the country, just me and him. We've lost people and pets, we've gained a husband, daughter, and several more dogs. We've been partners in life for nine years, and now it's time for him to go to Heaven. Before he goes, however, I'm struck by how blessed we've been. Rebel has epilepsy, hypothyroidism, arthritis, and cancer, yet he is not in pain and his illnesses have been manageable. We've also had such a long life together that no one could have predicted. Rebel was already five years old with a history of ailments when we adopted him, yet he has lived a happy, fulfilling life for an additional nine years. When he is in Heaven, I will have his lifetime of memories to keep with me as I love other dogs and other pets until we are reunited. My cup runneth over. My Lord has blessed me so greatly that I will focus on celebrating the life Rebel and I had together rather than get caught in the gap he will leave behind.
"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."
Tonight I am overcome by God's message of mercy. It's been nearly four weeks since we learned of Rebel's cancer. It's been nearly three weeks since he came home from his surgery, and it's been only one week since we learned the surgery was not a cure. I've cried everyday for four weeks. I've grieved and pleaded with God to help me understand, to help my dog, and more than anything, to please take Rebel to Heaven without assisstance when the time is right. I trust God to know when Rebel needs to move on from this life, and I need God to know I can't make that decision - for Rebel or anyone else. As I prayed my seemingly unanswered prayers tonight, I reminded Rebel of all the talks we've had of late. I've told him he can go when he is ready, and I will be okay. I've reminded him of my love for him and promised to never forget him. I've assured him that we will soon be reunited in Heaven, yet I still found myself in this incredible evening of despair. Until I turned to His word. In turning this over to God completely now, I know this, too, shall pass. The pain will ease and the memories will suffice until we are reunited, but God and Rebel seemed to know on their own that I was not in this place of comfort until tonight. Tonight I know that part of God's mercy is, as Starla also said today, that He knows better than we do when we are ready for His answers.
Now, I can't say this will be easy. If ever I thought there was a possibility of a soulmate, my soulmate would be Rebel. His unrelenting presence of love and loyalty have been a constant source of comfort and joy for me. However, I know in Rebel's absence I will still have God. I know God will take care of Rebel until I can be with him again. I know God directed me back to the 23rd Psalm tonight to reiterate that Rebel will be with Rosie, they will take care of each other, and then one day in the future I will reunite with them in the house of the Lord. I don't know why Rebel has to go this way. I don't know why he has to go at this time. Instead, I know that I don't need to know. God has the answers, and He gives me all the answers I need. I don't need answers on cancer, euthanasia, or time. The only answer I need is the 23rd Psalm.
For the first time ever, I close my blog in prayer. Heavenly Father, thank you. Thank you for my blessings. Thank you for my family (including my dogs), my home, my security, and my health. Thank you for my family's blessings as well. More than all of this tonight, thank you for Rebel. You knew what I needed when I went looking for him, and you've continued to bless our lives through every day we've had together. Thank you. Lord, I ask that you lead Rebel to Heaven when the time is right for him. Lord, I pray it is not part of your plan that I make the decision to have him leave this life. Lord, I pray that he will leave this life in the comfort and warmth of his own home, on his own time. Lord, I thank you and praise you for your amazing work in my life, and I continue to pray that you guide me to be your hands and feet, to live a Christian life, to be a Christian spirit. As I close in prayer, I ask that you comfort my husband and daughter as well, and let us focus on rejoicing in Rebel's life rather than mourning his passing. I pray you will continue to keep our family safe, happy, healthy, and together for a long, long time. In your son's heavenly name I pray, Amen.
