My personal journey as an Episcopalian  I noted a Yahoo search shows 740-million web citations about understanding faith. Therefore, it seems that I am not the only one who has questioned faith, sought to develop it and often challenged it. Somehow, I kept making the quest to understand faith too difficult. It isn’t that the Good Lord doesn’t give us some pretty concrete examples of how faith works. I just thought it had to be in some complex and mysterious interpretation of a concept that happened thousands of years ago. I discovered that I looked too hard to solve the mystery of faith. It was right there in black and white in my black and white spotted dog. Indeed, I finally understood faith from Bob the Dog. Since then, it has made the Episcopal Church even better! I understand the sermons. I understand the prayers. Yes, all because I learned faith from Bob the dog.
Bob was a medical research dog. Years of experimental operations and months of pain should have killed him. Yet, the technicians tell me he started each day in his cage by wagging his tail. He wagged it so much that it became raw from hitting the side of his cage. He would hold his head up high as he woke up from various experiments and become excited as the technicians would open his cage. He had faith that this was the day he would no longer go into the operating room for those experiments. Somehow, there is a heaven beyond that operating room. But for two years, that prance down the hall turned into a shaking crawl as he was led once again across the polished concrete into the operating room. He would lower his head and whimper at the sight of the dreaded room. But again, back in his cage, Bob would live with the faith that tomorrow would be different… that the next trip down the hall would lead him to freedom. After all the experiments and operations, the lab no longer needed Bob. His future was about to be grim as few dogs made it out of the lab. I heard about him from a kind lab worker who wanted to see Bob get a home and not be destroyed. I showed up to the unmarked and dark building on the university campus to rescue both Bob and his cage-mate friend who I named Edison. The technician went to his familiar cage. Once again, the technician dragged him towards the dreaded room… but wait… the operating room was suddenly behind him. He now had a leash and a collar and was outside. He started shaking as I tried to put him in the shell of my truck. He froze and whimpered as I picked him up and placed him with Edison. The dog, who had faith that this day would come now was in full panic. He had quit trusting that faith that made him live when virtually all others from his kennel gave up. He shook all night in the corner of his new yard in the mountains near Park City. Was faith merely a false hope? Do we fear that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to have our prayers answered? When IT happens, do we loose our faith, no matter how strong we prayed it to be? The next morning I came into his new yard with two cookies. Edison ate his and smiled. He simply showed the sweet content and joy that made him loved by everyone who ever saw him and petted his soft hair until his death last summer. I needed to walk over to Bob. I held out the cookie. Then something happened. He made eye contact with me for about 10 seconds... he grabbed the cookie and jumped and barked and cried and rolled around. He stood up and fell over and jumped and wagged his tail until it actually flung all the scars off its end and bled. He leaped over Edison who was quietly resting. He tried to leap over me and knocked me over. He licked my face, licked my bald head, and barked until he was exhausted. He found his heaven. He found that faith is real and has never stopped living each day to the fullest. He runs everywhere instead of walking even if it is 10 feet as he is now no longer in a steel cage. He leaps up and down, often for no reason, as he is no longer tied to tubes. He nuzzles up to each person in my house until he becomes obnoxious in his zeal, as no one is there to inflict pain any longer. He still greets me with the same glee each day that he did that first day... always making eye contact and then jumping up and down and wagging his tail until he falls down. On days when I am tired or sick... he refuses to let me sit or sleep... he jumps on me, licks me, or paws at me. He makes me know that we must always have faith that we have a glorious day ahead. He is one who actually knows that for sure. I have seen it in him for every day of the 12 years he has been with me. If you ever meet Bob, he will also stare into your eyes... if you look sad--- he will run around until you follow him past what ever dreaded room you have in your life. You can also learn faith and love from a medical research dog. The dogs desperately need your help to find homes when their medical research is done. They come with full vaccinations, chips, and are fixed. They are amazingly healthy. Those of us who have medical research dogs will always rescue medical research dogs. Call the University of Utah Animal Research Center at 801-581-6430 to find out which dogs are available. You will save a live and learn faith! |