A little over three years ago, I adopted a rescue dog and named her Daisy. She is a poodle mix with white fur, penetratingly dark brown eyes, and cute as a bug, weighing all of eight pounds. When I first got her, she was very feral, fearful, and a relentless flight risk. Over time, she has come to trust and obey me and gets excited and wiggly when it´s time to go for a walk. However, she balks at any attention given to her by other people, does not play with toys or chase and fetch anything, and is socially impaired when relating to other dogs.
A couple of years ago, a recently widowed woman with her six-year-old son, Matthew*, moved into the apartment across the hall from mine. Matthew’s whole countenance lit up when he first met Daisy, but Daisy was immune to his attempts at making friends with her. Nevertheless, he persevered day after day, giving her treats and setting up obstacle courses in their apartment to see if she could find her way out. She always did, and surprisingly always went back for more, especially if doggie treats were involved.
If Matthew happened to be around when I was taking Daisy for a walk, he begged to have the honor of walking her. As long as I was close by, Daisy let him walk her—or was it Daisy walking him? Each morning, Matthew´s ear was fine-tuned to the click of my door’s deadbolt—the signal that I would be leaving with Daisy for our walk. He would immediately fling open his door, overjoyed to see Daisy, so I would hand him the leash, and off we’d go.
I am not much of a morning person. I get up, brush my teeth, splash water on my face, and throw on some clothes before practically stumbling out the door for Daisy´s walk. One of those mornings when Matthew joined us, he was markedly more chatty than usual. Barely managing a grin, I muttered, “You must be a morning person.” He immediately threw back his head in euphoric abandon and declared, “I´m just happy!” Pure joy emphasized each word. I shot back, “And why are you so happy?” With the same level of zeal, he retorted, “Because I get to walk Daisy!”
Later, recalling Matthew’s irrepressible enthusiasm that morning, my thoughts turned to a phrase on a rustic wood plaque in my guest room: “In the morning when I rise, give me Jesus.” That is my prayer, not to merely be aware of His presence but to be fully engaged each day in His presence, walking with Him and learning from Him from the moment I wake until I fall asleep at night.
And one of these days, if someone should ask me why I am so happy, I will surely answer, “Because I get to walk with Jesus!”
“Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving.” (Colossians 2:6-7)
By Kathy Coon, Retired OMS Missionary
*Name changed for security.
