Our dog, Molly, is a full-blood mutt. She was picked out of a litter of pups huddled in a cardboard box in the parking lot of Wal-Mart ten winters ago. The lady who owned the box and the canines within charged us $0.00 for the purchase. Molly's been worth every penny.
Actually, she's been a great dog, still playful and even-tempered. She only teeters off the edge when one of three things happens: when she gets her hair clipped, her nails clipped or when she gets a bath. That's why I usually try to do all three in one swift series of events. Not because I love to torment her, but because I suppose the agony is lessened by having it all occur in a short span of time. It's no picnic for me either (her barber, manicurist and hygienic specialist). After it all, I feel like I've taped a special edition of "Dirty Jobs." I'm ready for a nap.
Monday (Labor Day) was the day. In the matter of 60-90 minutes the torture would be over. After all was said and done she looked great and smelled great. But every time I walked near her, fearing I might impose another diabolical injustice on her, she scrambled under the bed.
It amazes me that after nearly eleven years she still shakes like Jello in an earthquake when the clippers begin their ominous buzz. She knows she will live; nevertheless, it freaks her out.
Doesn't she realize how important this grooming is? Doesn't she recognize how much more comfortable she will be and how much more willing we will be to pet and hold her after the deed is done? Apparently not.
And I'm not much smarter when it comes to being under the hand of God's grooming. The discipline of His correction, the practice of prayer and attention to the Bible seem chore-like at times. I wonder if there is any gain. I wonder why I can't simply be hooked up to a spiritual IV and have His Spirit pumped into me. Oh yeah, I hate IVs. . .
I don't always like the process of becoming more beautiful in Christ, but I like the results. And that is why I press on. Unlike Molly, there are many times that the process is a joy, even a feast. But for those days when I stand shivering in the shadow of His grooming, I look forward with hope to what He is making of me.
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