By Mary Hill
I gather with hundreds of women virtually every Friday for a five-minute shared writing exercise on a word provided by Lisa-Jo Baker. We write for five minutes without backtracking or correcting. It is just simple response to the weekly word. Each of us bring our own takes on the word and somehow doing so has built a community.
This week’s word is : Joy
|Dobber plays with our smaller dog, Lily. He is 14-years-old this month.|
His white and spotted coat looked funny yesterday when he got back from the groomers. His tail wagged so fast it beat a rhythm. Joy shined from his old 14-year-old eyes. He was just happy to see me. He doesn’t have a bad mood in his old body; even though, he gets up slowly and sometimes shakes as he walks.
His eyes are muted with a milky substance: cateracts. He can’t hear anymore, but he is joyful anyway.
We could learn a lot from our furry friends about joy and happiness; simple expectations and faith. He knows me and knows I love him. He crawls up in my lap and snuggles up to me with his head on my shoulder. Pure joy at just being where he is at.
It humbles me because I am not deserving at times. I go hours without saying hello. I keep him in the backyard because he never house trained. I love him though and wish he could be like my Lily, allowed inside all day. He loves to go for walks and I can’t take him. He loves to chase a stick or ball, and I don’t have the energy to throw one.
But he greets me with joy anyway. He loves me so much. Underserving love and so pure. He would give his life for mine. I know because he has protected me. Now he is entering his twilight years, and it brings me joy to make them the happiest years that I can.
Only one other has loved me like that: Christ. He died for me and He counts it joy when I pray to Him and surrender to His will. Such a simple lesson from such a simple being. My dog is so much more Christ like than me.