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Secure In The Master's Arms
Wednesday, July 5, 2006
5:29:00 PM EDT
My schnauzer hates thunderstorms. Like many dogs, she's terrified by the wild flash of lights and the heartstopping, thunderous booms that follow.
During a thunderstorm, she can be found deeply burrowed in the blankets folded at the bottom of the linen closet, shaking and terrified. It seems that there is no comfort for an animal scared of the elements.
I'd decided years ago, that I'd only coax her out of her hiding place if she needed to go outside or if I was going to bed.
Last night, a monsoon rolled in while we were away watching fireworks. Upon our arrival home, she greeted us happily and then retreated to her den of safekeeping to wait out the storm.
A few minutes later, I called to her and she didn't come. I called again, this time a bit louder and sterner, yet she still didn't move from her nest. Realizing that she was no doubt frightened to the point that she couldn't move, I knelt down on my knees, reached inside the closet and caressed her face. As I withdrew my hand, she followed.
I scooped her into my arms and jumped on the bed. When I climbed under the covers, she snuggled in close and sighed.
While the storm raged outside, she couldn't be moved. She stayed firmly against my side, her head tucked under my neck and slept peacefully. Only an ear-splitting crash of thunder would stir her, but just for a moment and then she'd sigh again and close her eyes.
It was only at the touch of my hand that she would leave the safety of her small hiding place. She's the only one who can hide there and if one does not look, they'll never find her. However, her master knew where she was and sought her out. Once safely in my arms, she trusted that no harm would come to her while she nestled there.
She came to me six years ago, battered and broken by the hands of someone she trusted. The first time I reached out to her, she bit me. The second time I reached out, she pulled away, but then turned around and tentatively took a step towards me. The third time, she sat quietly trembling in my arms while I murmured words of love to her. She comes to me when she's happy, when she's scared (unless it's a storm) and when she's sick. The only time she doesn't come running to me is when she's caught tearing up something or getting into the trash can.
It is in those moments that she runs and hides from me, determined to never be found.
I'm not saying we're dogs, but I can see a correlation between a dog's behavior towards its owner and man's behavior towards God. We are often angry when God reaches out to us. We hide behind a myriad of emotions and behaviors when we've done something we know to be wrong.
But when God touches us, He touches something deep inside and we instinctively, tentatively draw closer to Him.
He'll always call us, always reach out to us, urging us to come and rest in His arms.
And it's when we leave our hiding places and leap into the Master's arms that we find peace.
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5:29:00 PM EDT
Secure In The Master's Arms
During a thunderstorm, she can be found deeply burrowed in the blankets folded at the bottom of the linen closet, shaking and terrified. It seems that there is no comfort for an animal scared of the elements.
I'd decided years ago, that I'd only coax her out of her hiding place if she needed to go outside or if I was going to bed.
Last night, a monsoon rolled in while we were away watching fireworks. Upon our arrival home, she greeted us happily and then retreated to her den of safekeeping to wait out the storm.
A few minutes later, I called to her and she didn't come. I called again, this time a bit louder and sterner, yet she still didn't move from her nest. Realizing that she was no doubt frightened to the point that she couldn't move, I knelt down on my knees, reached inside the closet and caressed her face. As I withdrew my hand, she followed.
I scooped her into my arms and jumped on the bed. When I climbed under the covers, she snuggled in close and sighed.
While the storm raged outside, she couldn't be moved. She stayed firmly against my side, her head tucked under my neck and slept peacefully. Only an ear-splitting crash of thunder would stir her, but just for a moment and then she'd sigh again and close her eyes.
It was only at the touch of my hand that she would leave the safety of her small hiding place. She's the only one who can hide there and if one does not look, they'll never find her. However, her master knew where she was and sought her out. Once safely in my arms, she trusted that no harm would come to her while she nestled there.
She came to me six years ago, battered and broken by the hands of someone she trusted. The first time I reached out to her, she bit me. The second time I reached out, she pulled away, but then turned around and tentatively took a step towards me. The third time, she sat quietly trembling in my arms while I murmured words of love to her. She comes to me when she's happy, when she's scared (unless it's a storm) and when she's sick. The only time she doesn't come running to me is when she's caught tearing up something or getting into the trash can.
It is in those moments that she runs and hides from me, determined to never be found.
I'm not saying we're dogs, but I can see a correlation between a dog's behavior towards its owner and man's behavior towards God. We are often angry when God reaches out to us. We hide behind a myriad of emotions and behaviors when we've done something we know to be wrong.
But when God touches us, He touches something deep inside and we instinctively, tentatively draw closer to Him.
He'll always call us, always reach out to us, urging us to come and rest in His arms.
And it's when we leave our hiding places and leap into the Master's arms that we find peace.
Written by jcgeorgiapeach Blog about this entry |
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This entry has 6 comments: (Add your own)
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Tara, I wrote an entry about my Max's fear of thunder, and mentioned your entry. I left a link at my blog so others can come back to yours and read it. Bea
http://journals.aol.com/bgilmore725/Wanderer/entries/1197 -
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This is such a wonderful illustration of many of our relationship with God. I think of my darkest time and how I was truly angry with God for "taking my baby girl". Yet through my deepest hurt and cries of pain, he gently nugged me, stroking my head gently and kindly. As we do with our scared animals, children, and others we love who are frightened of something whether it is storms, loud fireworks, etc...it's when we're soft and gentle with them, just as God's slow, soft, and gentle with us. He never pushes us too fast or makes us do something we're not ready for. How grateful I am for our Savior. He's gentle, kind, and oh so loving, and there's nothing more comforting than his warm, gentle, kind arms.
Thanks for a wonderful entry!!!
God Bless
Christy -
Tara, you said it with a story we all understand. It is how we behave in our relationship to God... I've often recognized the trust my own dogs give to me. My Max (also a mini schnauzer) is terrified of thunder, like yours. His instinct tells him the safest room in the house is in the bathroom. How does he know? There are no windows in the bathroom... it is the innermost room. Technically, it is the safest room in the house! He doesn't know this, but he feels this I suppose, and he will sneak away and lay down between the wall, the tub, and the toilet when he hears the thunder. I tried putting his bed in there so he wouldn't be laying directly on the floor, but instead of crawling onto the bed, he laid down beside it. Go figure! My dogs trust me, and despite the rain pouring outside, another thing they don't like, they will follow me if I go out there with them. It doesn't matter that I'm using an umbrella. They will follow me into the rain at 10pm at night (as long as it isn't thundering) to use the bathroom. I love this entry, and the tender image of God portrayed here. I often don't trust Him enough... thanks for reminding me, Tara.
Bea http://journals.aol.com/bgilmore725/Wanderer/
7/6/06 10:07 AM
I needed this reminder today - and every day. Sometimes the storms of life are spring thunderstorms and sometimes they are monsoons. I need to remember that I need shelter in the small storms as well as the monster storms.
Hugs,
Gwynn