By Sandra Bost
Deaf dog discipleship
I said something terrible to my deaf dog the other day.
Kar, as he was called when we adopted him almost a decade ago, can’t hear the world around him–no warnings, no praise, no “I love you” drifting into his ears. And yet, he moves through life with a steady sweetness–sometimes annoyance–that softens everyone who encounters him. Literally. Every. One.
He is loyal, (mostly) gentle, and so persistently devoted that sometimes it borders on ridiculous.
And still…on that day, frustration got the best of me. He was underfoot. I was in a hurry, and headed to grab the dustpan for the tidy pile I had just swept, when he panicked. He caught a glimpse of that tall, stiff-spined, bristly monster he’s convinced is plotting his demise and darted past me–right through my pile, scattering little white hairs and grass everywhere. I’ll give you three guesses as to the origin of the fur and grass.
Without thought, the words just flew out of my mouth like I say them everyday–which I don’t, since I was raised to reserve this particular word for the devil.
“I hate you.” Not just once, but three times. (sigh) He didn’t hear it. But I heard it. And Holy Spirit heard it, too.
Immediately, the weight of those words settled on me. Because, while Kar couldn’t hear my voice–he saw my posture–he felt my frustration.
The thought occurred to me: How many times has God watched me behave as ridiculous as Kar? How many times have I misunderstood, wandered aimlessly, bolted in the wrong direction out of fear? And yet, in my ridiculousness, I have been met with grace, patience, gentleness, and unshakable devotion.
After the broom-incident chaos settled, Kar did what Kar always does: he wandered back to me. Nudging my heart with his big, brown eyes–while whacking my leg with his long white tail. He forgave me in his little dog-way. And I couldn’t help but feel the gentle conviction of it all.
If Kar, who hears none of my apologies, can still see me as a safe, good person–how much more should I trust Jesus, who has never been impatient with me. He has never looked at me with animosity, or spoken a harsh word to me. How much more should I lean into the One who meets all my wanderings, panics, and wrong turns with unchanging patience and love?
Kar’s sweetness–his loyalty, his eagerness, his ridiculous devotion–became a mirror. A quiet reminder that I am the one who panics at imagined foes. I am the one who tramples the tidy things. I am the one who gets life wrong in a hurry. And yet, Psalm 103:8-14 reminds me that Jesus continues to respond with generous, relentless, undeserved Love.
“The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love…He does not treat us as our sins deserve…He knows how we are formed, He remembers that we are dust” (NIV).
The more I pondered it all, the more I realized that Kar wasn’t just a dog at that moment. He was a teacher–a furry, bull-dog shaped, professor–wagging his tail at me. And just like that–in spite of my frustration, Kar’s forgiveness and God’s whisper of grace–this Psalm of Sandra I wrote years ago, came back to mind.
A Psalm of Sandra when she ponders the ways of the deaf dog, Kar.
All day, he keeps watch through the window and longs for our return; I want to long for Your return as resolutely. You are Faithful. (Jehovah)
When we return, he notices, and greets us with ridiculous excitement; I want to lavish You with ridiculous praise and affection. You are worthy. (El Shaddai, Jehovah Nissi)
When we give him direction, his eyes are fixed on us and he obeys; I want to fix my eyes on You and obey Your commands. You are Sovereign. (Elohim, Adonai)
When he is hungry, or has a need, he trusts us to care for him; I want to trust You with every care and every need. You are a Good Father. (Jehovah Jireh)
When we are home, he stays by our sides and comes to us for friendship and comfort; I want to be as devoted to You. You are my Friend and my Peace. (Jehovah Shalom)
Oh! Great God! When I ponder the ways of this beautifully ridiculous deaf dog, my heart longs to love you with such enthusiasm and faithfulness. Help me, Abba, to have the nature of Kar in all of my ways.
Selah!
Let every small, ordinary moment–even the ones full of dust piles and tangled emotions–become a reminder of the extraordinary goodness of God. He is faithful in our failures, gentle in our fears, and steady in His love.
Let’s be like Kar today–ridiculous in the best way–trusting fully, loving freely, and curling up close to the Father who is endlessly faithful.
