From Max Lucado’s book ‘Traveling Light’. . .
“For the last twenty years I’ve wanted a dog. A big dog. But there were always problems. The apartment was too small. The budget was too tight. The girls were too young. But, most of all, Denalyn was unenthusiastic. Her logic” She already married one slobbering, shedding beast, why put up with a second? So we compromised and got a small dog.
I like Salty, but small dogs aren’t really dogs. They don’t bark, they yelp. They don’t eat, they nibble. They don’t lick you; they sniff you. I like Salty, but I wanted a real dog. A man’s best friend type of dog. A fat pawed, big eating, slurp you on the face type of dog you could saddle or wrestle or both.
I was alone in my passion until Sara was born. She loves dogs. And the two of us were able to sway the household vote. Denalyn gave in and Sara and I began the search. We discovered a woman in South Carolina who breeds golden retrievers in a Christian environment. From birth the dogs are surrounded by inspirational music and prayers. (No, I don’t know if they tithe with dog biscuits.) When the trainer told me that she had read my books, I got on board. A woman with such good taste is bound to be a good breeder, right?
So we ordered a pup. We mailed the check, selected the name Molly, and cleared a corner for her dog pillow. The dog hadn’t even been born and she was named, claimed and given a place in the house.
Can’t the same be said of you? Long before your first whimper, your master claimed you, named you, and hung a reserved sign on your room. You and Molly have more in common than odor and eating habits. (Just teasing.)
You’re both being groomed for a trip. we prefer the terms maturation and sanctification to weaning and training, but it’s all the same. You’re being prepared for your master’s house. You don’t know the departure date or the flight number, but you can bet your puppy chow that you’ll be seeing your Owner some day. Isn’t this the concluding promise of David?
“And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever” (Psalms 23:6). Where will you live forever? In the house of the Lord. If his house is your “forever house” what does that make your earthly house? You got it! Short-term housing. This is not our home. “Our homeland is in heaven” (Phillipians 3:20).
This explains the homesickness we feel.
Have you ever longed to be home? May I share a time when I did? I was spending the summer of my nineteenth year in northern Georgia. The folks in that region are very nice, but no one is too nice to a door to door salesman. There were many times that summer when I was so lonely for home I felt my bones would melt.
One of those occasions came on the side of a country road. The hour was late, and I was lost. I’d stopped to pull out a flashlight and a map. To my right was a farmhouse. In the farmhouse was a family. I knew it was a family because I could see them. Right through the big plate-glass window, I could see mother and father and boy and girl. Norman Rockwell would have placed them on a canvas. The mom was spooning out food, and the dad was telling a story, and the kids were laughing, and it was all I could do to keep from ringing the doorbell and asking for a place at the table. I felt so far from home. (continued) ~Max Lucado, Traveling Light (Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson, 2001). 151-52
(Posts with a preamble asterisk * are for a more general audience, and not specific to teachings of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.)
