Now before you get any crazy ideas, about what particular aspect of "dog-like behavior" I'm striving for, you need to view a quick video:
Although his enthusiasm is incredibly annoying and persistent, (so much so that most days I have to put on my running gear in the bathroom) his reaction is striking. I, an avid and devout runner, do not get anywhere near that level of excited when I am preparing for a run. If anything, I spend more time coming up with a list of excuses not to go for a run, than actually preparing for that run itself.
It seems almost contradictory to say that I am an avid and devout runner who has a hard time getting out for a run. Why would I struggle so much? Wouldn't it be easier to get out for a run because of my love for it? Well yes, to a point--my desire is more than my husband's who calls running "every other sport's punishment." But the greater analogous question is this:
Why do we call ourselves devout Christians, yet struggle so much to turn away from sin?
We don't embody all of the qualities of a name just because we call ourselves by that name. I could call myself a professional figure skater tomorrow, but (unfortunately it's still only a pipe dream) that will not change (overnight) my ability to do anything more extensive than a bunny hop.
When we call ourselves Christian (or "runner" or "figure skater") that should mean we possess and act upon a greater desire to live out that name, regardless of the laundry-list of excuses that might cause us to be in "pain" along the journey. There is no magic formula, or pill, rather a greater desire to put in the hard work.
So, I ask you again, why can't I be more like my dog Gus? Who doesn't think about the fact that when we are on our run, I constantly tug on his collar when he wants to roll around in the snow (that's another hilarious video for a future post...), that I yell at him when he pulls me down the stairs to the street, that I don't let him sniff every single morsel of being that passes by him on the path. He doesn't take the "pain" of remaining obedient into account when I ask him if he wants to go for a run because he only cares about the joy that is received when we go on that run.
Now, I recognize my dog doesn't have the power of reason as he doesn't make calculated decisions... But regardless of being a perfect analogy, the point is still present. We have the power, and more so the duty, to concentrate on the outcome of our journey rather than the pain of getting there.
And our (desired) outcome is heaven. But, if I become short-sighted in the process, I forget that the amount of miles (or in the case of the Christian life: prayers, study, works of mercy, etc.) I put in for the big race will really help me in the end. Running 13.1 miles when only reaching 6-miles as your longest distance is painful -- you can take my husband's word for that... ;)
The more we practice what we preach, the more it becomes integral to who we are, and the easier it is to live up to the name we have given ourselves.
Lucky for us, we have already been named by the Lord. And He is the one who teaches us what it means to be us. Like the hobbies and jobs we desire to be great at are taught by the professionals that came before us (Michelle Kwan anyone?), Jesus is the one who teaches us what it means to be Christian. But unlike what it means to be great at a hobby, we have already been wired for God: "The dignity of the human person is rooted in his creation in the image and likeness of God." (CCC 1700)
We must not be afraid of recognizing our smallness (and all of that crap in our lives) in order to see the bigger picture. We must not be afraid of struggling through the pain of our day to day in order to stay on the path, and keep our eyes upon the rewards in heaven. When we succumb to our own weakness, we do not allow God's strength to penetrate our lives.
When I succumb to my laundry-list of complaints about my run, I lose sight of the bigger picture--that the Lord has the ability to prepare me with the endurance for those crazy 13.1 miles, and finish the race. But He cannot work in me, if I do not let Him. He cannot work in me if I do not first give Him the time of day, if I do not sacrifice my laundry-list for something greater. Ultimately, I must make that choice to remain enthusiastic about the journey, regardless of the pain. I must trust the Lord's work in me and that even though I only see the little details, he sees the entire path, and knows what I need in order to get there.
In the next few weeks, amidst the trying end of Lent, remember the enthusiasm of a brown labrador named Gus...
And remember that the Lord doesn't just call us to the destination, He also equips us for the journey. There is great joy in the faith that comes from trusting that the Lord will fulfill his promises. Lean on the intercession of Momma Mary; she presents for us the perfect example of this trust.
"Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her"
(Lk 1:45)
May God bless you as you wait for His celebrated Resurrection. With enthusiastic joy in our hearts, and a song of praise forever on our lips.
