Over here, I wrote about perspective.  How my past, painful and distorted, when brought into focus with the grace of His love, is transformed into beauty.  Allowing me to rest in His love and forgiveness.

And a dual thought was forming over a traumatic event of the weekend.  Eli and Ellie were attacked Sunday afternoon.  In broad daylight.  By an unknown entity.

Fear imagines the worst:  a large, rabid dog, a coyote, possibly a bobcat.

But if that had been the case, they would have been dead, not just gnawed upon.  Deep punctures and tears opening the top layer of skin, exposing soft muscle within, bleeding profusely.

We bathed the animals, we doctored them, we loved on them.  We became angry at some silly animal that would just gnaw chiefly on their right rear leg, immobilizing them.  What a cheap cowardly trick!

Was the culprit weakening them to come back and finish them off in the night?

Two days pass, us watching, attentive.  Grace has the goats out, wonders why she must stand guard.  Under the car, an animal growls, deep and guttural, lurking like a cat…at the goats.

Rosie, our brave Golden Retriever, puts herself in line between the lurking beast and our babies.

The creature darts out, growling, angry…and runs under the back deck, Grace calls for me to come quick.

Under the deck is a small black, mean puppy.  Yes, a puppy!

Hungry, angry, unloved, she tries to attack anything that comes close to her.  We carefully slide a bowl of dog food within her reach…she still snarling….untrusting…

And I think, I could shoot her right now.  Growling at us like that…and I remember what a friend of mine had said, it’s probably just a hungry animal that went after your goats.

The Holy Spirit whispers…look at her posture…look at her anger…look at her mistrust…isn’t that how you all are, when I am set on saving you?

I look…she eats ravenously.  She fills herself.  She tries to hide and wishes she could disappear.  Grace calls to her.  She wags her tail tentatively, fighting with herself about whether she will trust or not.

Eventually Grace wins and the black German Shepherd mutt puppy is named Mercy. ( I think her paws are too small to be real big dog, but who knows)

She rolls onto her tummy in submission, she wags profusely, she loves deeply.

Because it is what she has received.  What we can all receive when we trust in Jesus Christ’s finished work on the cross.


And the same wise friend who thought it was just a hungry animal also wondered at my faithful assurance of my Father’s love through thick and thin, through birth and death, through blessings and trials…and I like Mercy, only love deeply because I was loved deeply and completely.

Anyone want to provide a home for Mercy?