The Journey

I love animals. Pictures of baby animals have been known to reduce me to a heap of squeals and wimpers. Especially if the pictures are of otters, bunnies, or puppies. Andrew often finds and saves adorable animal pictures to show me at night because he enjoys watching me turn into a senseless, gibbering bowl of jelly. I can’t help it.

I have long had a dream of fostering animals for the local pet rescue shelters. They often need temporary homes for animals who are making a medical recovery, require a little extra love and attention, or simply because they have run out of room to house them. Andrew and I have resisted adopting any animals because our apartment is so tiny that there’s literally nowhere to put a crate or a litter box other than in the middle of the floor. Despite this fact, we have been known to frequent the local shelters just to play with the animals and get our fuzzy, furry love on. Recently, I threw my hands up in the air and said, “EFF IT! Let’s go foster some animals.” Andrew was right there with me and we picked up two baby kittens that needed a place to stay until they were old enough to be spayed, neutered, and adopted out. Although we had to put the litter box in the middle of the floor, it was an enjoyable experience.

As a dog lover, I lobbied fiercely for a foster dog on the next go round. Within a few weeks, I came across a young adult staffie (pit) mix named Tillie who needed a foster home for medical reasons. A week later, she was still in need of fostering, so I went and picked her up. Having Tillie in our lives has been a joy. Her crate sits in the middle of the living room, but I don’t care. I just love having her here.

With this new bundle of joy comes a boatload of work and responsibility, of course. Tillie was basically a stray and has very little training of any kind. She picked up “Sit” within two days flat, and she’s pretty darn good at “Stay” these days as well. Walking on a leash, however, has presented a whole new challenge. I now have the daily pleasure of working on proper leash etiquette with Miss Tillie so as not to get dragged all over kingdom come. I must say, she is progressing quite well, but it requires constant application of the training techniques and absolute consistency. The key to breaking her of her pulling tendencies and teaching her to be a great follower is, at the core, teaching her to trust me. To do this, I first have to let her know that I am the leader and she must follow me wherever I go. Once she accepts this, she can finally begin to relax and enjoy being a faithful companion without the pressure and responsibility of having to show me where to go and make the decisions as to what we’re doing. She can relax, follow, and we can both enjoy a great walk.

The technique which has proven to be most effective in establishing this new precedent and building that trust is to almost constantly change directions during our walks. Every time Tillie starts to pull ahead, I abruptly change directions, forcing her to follow suit. Within seconds, she may attempt to take the lead again. Once again, I sharply turn in another direction and walk boldly on. Tillie adjusts as well, glancing up at me with an expression of mild perturbance. As this goes on, we end up walking in circles and zig zag patterns through the neighboring parking lot. Tillie becomes confused and has no option but to keep looking up at me, checking to see where I’m going so she can stay with “the pack.” This is perfect because now she’s starting to understand that I am carrying the weight of the decision making responsibility and she can relax and come along for the ride. As a result, we begin to bond over the joy of a shared walk.

In the process of this training, we tend to look a little crazy. We’re walking back and forth, suddenly changing directions, walking in squares and circles. It’s disconcerting to both of us, but it yields effective results. She’s beginning to trust me, and I have the relief of knowing that Tillie won’t be running out into oncoming traffic or towards less-than-friendly puppy companions. I know where we’re going and where it’s in her best interests to steer away from. Oftentimes, she is stubbornly resistant to where I am leading her because the scary signpost or threatening dumpster is just sure to hurt her. But I happen to know that the dumpster cannot hurt her, rather it is a necessary receptacle in which to toss her bag of shit which I have just picked up.

It’s not hard for me to draw the comparison between my relationship with God and my relationship with Tillie. Life is just full of metaphors, examples, and teachings of higher priniciples if and when we are looking for them. In this scenario, I would be Tillie, the one learning to follow, and God would be the “pack leader.” It’s hard because following God means giving up authority. It definitely involves giving up control, and I’m just not sure I can trust him enough to hand over the reigns to my life. I mean, I’m the one who’s been calling the shots all these years, and I don’t know who He thinks He is to come in and pull me in a totally different direction.

…and yet…Ohhh, it is SUCH a relief to let go and just follow for a second or two. Man! It feels so nice to just be trotting along, unworried about where I’m headed or when I’m going to get there, just going along for the ride, enjoying the scenery and perfect companionship…

BUT WAIT! I WANT TO GO OVER THERRRREEEE!!!! *Jerk* God pulls me in a 180 and I’m looking over my shoulder at what I thought I wanted. And then, without fail, I realize that he has my best interests in mind and he knows that other thing I wanted to go play with over there would have caused me nothing but pain and suffering. I look up at Him, not fully convinced yet of where he’s taking me, but willing to stick with him a little further and find out…

Then there we are, rapidly approaching a foreboding opponent. I do NOT want to go over there! PLEASE don’t make me look at that. If I get any closer to it, I think I’ll just DIEEE! Patiently, he inches me closer until I can confront my fear, and then we walk happily away, the air finally cleared of the stench from the bag of shit we just tossed out.

And that’s how it goes. Life keeps taking sudden, sharp turns. If I was paying closer attention, I might see them coming and handle them with a bit more grace and balance instead of being thrown off track and seemingly yanked in another direction. Despite the discomfort of this ongoing exercise of trust, I am learning slowly, but surely, to “let go and let God.” When I do, I find that I’m able to round the corners with ease. When I keep checking in with Him, asking for His guidance, and then following it, I am never once lead astray. In retrospect, I can see how the times I have listened to God instead of barreling off towards some coveted person/place/thing, has saved me from a world of heartache. And blessedly, the times I have gone ahead and barreled away, he has patiently waited for me to come back, just to pick up right where we left off in our walk. And slowly, but surely, I’m getting it. Listening and following = peace and joy. Cowering and barreling ahead = pain and suffering.

The relief and immense pleasure I experience when I completely let go and just follow His lead makes the whole exercise worth it. It’s about learning to trust. Experience has proven that He has my best interests at heart, even when I think I know what’s best.  And that is why, in the words of Carol King, “Where [He] leads, I will follow.” (Shutup! I’ve been watching a lot of Gilmore Girls lately. DON’TJUDGEME!)