What My Sick Dog Taught Me about Trust

Debbie W. Wilson is one of my heart sisters. We met on Facebook and we both desire to align our thoughts and behavior with the Word of God. But her Spiritual Life UPGRADE is especially dear to me, helping me to better receive God’s will at a difficult time in my own life.

“I felt like a traitor luring my standard poodle into my vet’s lab room,” Debbie said.

I (Dawn) so understand that. We’ve done that with our maltipoo, Roscoe. But it was for his good! I love how Debbie expresses this simple-but-profound truth.

Debbie continues . . .

I did it to save his life. But Max didn’t know that.

Did he think I was heartless to let the vet draw blood from his thin leg—again?

For months after we learned Max has Addison’s disease, the vet had to draw his blood to check his electrolyte and hormone levels.

One week, Max refused to go with the technician. So instead of handing her the leash, I followed her—and he followed me.

Max’s trust in me made me consider the conditions I’ve put on fully trusting God in painful situations. I’ve thought if only I knew the purpose of my pain then I’d be able to trust God better.

But was that true?

Imagine me explaining Max’s condition to him.

• I could read him the symptoms off the Internet.
• I could show him his lab reports.
• I could remind him how he almost died.

But would that help Max have his blood drawn?

I understand the treatment of Max’s illness better than he does. I know the pain of the needle is brief and the benefits are lasting. How much more does God understand my trials?

Sometimes God allows me to see the benefit of my pain. But some 'whys' remain unanswered.

Isaiah 55:8-9 says,

“‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,’ declares the Lord. ‘As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts’” (NIV).

The difference between my thoughts and my dog’s is so much less than the distance between God’s thoughts and mine.

If Max can’t understand why I have his blood drawn, do I think I can understand why God takes me through pain and loss?

But God has not left me without assurance.

He has promised:

• “For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison” (2 Cor. 4:17 NIV).
• “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Rom. 8:18 NIV).
• “Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.  And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us” (Rom. 5:3-5 NIV).

Life on this planet is a vapor. But how we live here affects our eternity.

Pain, loss, and confusion are opportunities to trust our Master.

The hurt is real, but if He allows it then we know it is to benefit us.

As God’s child I can’t shed a hair without God noticing.

When I see Max romp across the yard without a symptom of Addison’s, I thank God for blood tests and shots. I remember how sick he was without them.

He doesn’t understand the connection. He doesn’t need to. Max only needs to know that I take care of him.

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who is against us?” (Romans 8:31 NASB)

What pain or disappointment has God allowed to touch you? What would trusting Him look like for you?

Debbie W. Wilson aspires to connect people’s hearts to God and help them discover relevant faith. She is the author of Little Women, Big God and Give Yourself a Break. She and her husband Larry founded Lighthouse Ministries, a nonprofit counseling, coaching, and Bible teaching ministry. She enjoys exploring new places, reading a good mystery, and laughing with her two standard poodles. Share her journey to refreshing faith at debbieWwilson.com.

The photos with those two gorgeous poodles are from the author, Debbie.

When the Ache Won't Go Away

With the wisdom of a story-telling sage, Cynthia Ruchti leads women to the Source of grace and hope:

“Like an abscessed tooth, the memory of Darren’s betrayal kept Marika from chewing on that side of life,” Ruchti said. “The pain throbbed through her entire being. She thought she was doing fine until she’d chomp down on something hard—like her daughter’s fatherless recital—and restart the cycle of pain.”

Her words are more than one woman’s story. It’s a lesson to help us UPGRADE our attitudes as we deal with life’s hurts.

Ruchti continues ...

I pray you don’t identify with Marika’s stabbing distress. But I know better than to assume you don’t. Or that you don’t care about someone walking her path.

We’ve heard the stories too often—the husband who walks away from his family, who chooses to ignore his responsibilities and his marriage vows in favor of the adventure of someone who comes packaged with no responsibilities but a good time, someone who treats him like a pubescent boy rather than the man he’s supposed to be.

He gets a condo in the city. The Marikas in the story are stuck with an impossible mortgage, the full weight of raising their children, an awkward or no social life, leaky gutters, a mini-van with an ailing transmission, and an abscess-like sense of rejection.

Or the situation is flipped, an all-too frequent occurrence. She and her girlfriend decide to leave their husbands and kids and share a condo in the city, a place that allows them a freedom that comes at the cost of their marriages and their children’s happiness.

Referring to fractured families like Marika’s, a quote from Ragged Hope: Surviving the Fallout of Other People’s Choices says,

“The spittle of parental hostility always lands on the children. A feud between Mom and Dad is as hard to breathe through as secondhand smoke.”

As a gossamer, balm-laced overlay to that picture, though, is this unshakable truth that cuts through the pain:

God doesn’t just care; He understands.

We lean on His power, His ability to hold us, His tenacious love for us, no matter which part of the abscess equation is ours. But this too is true—His understanding has no limit.

His love is limitless. His forgiveness is limitless. His compassion knows no bounds. His mercy is limitless. We cling to those promises. But here’s a holding-on place for trying times that gets less attention than others. The Bible assures us there is no limit to His understanding (Psalm 147:5).

He understands how deeply betrayal cuts. He understands our insomnia, our frustration, our weariness, our battle to keep from letting bitterness dictate our reactions. He understands it all.

          He doesn’t just know. He understands.

          He doesn’t just see. He sees why.

          He doesn’t just react. He creates.

          He doesn’t just care. He shows it.

          He doesn’t just love us through it. He gets it.

He understands exactly how fast our world is spinning and how close it’s tiptoeing to the edge.

He understands how ragged and worn we sometimes feel.

          He understands it all. All.

Fill your lungs with that bracing breath of life today. No matter what we face, Someone understands.

Now, there’s something to hold onto while we wait for the pain to subside!

When has God’s understanding encouraged you to hang on and persevere?

Cynthia Ruchti is the author of Ragged Hope: Surviving the Fallout of Other People’s Choices, a book that takes a look at the realities of the consequences we face because of another’s wrong, hurtful, misguided, or sinful decisions. Filled with stories of those who responded admirably and with uncommon grace, the book also addresses those of us who walk beside people caught in the aftermath of someone else’s bad decision. You can connect with Cynthia on her website or Facebook Reader Page to find out more about this book and others she’s written.