Christian Living

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My grandmother just dropped off her dog. Accompanying the hound is a suitcase of paraphernalia containing a leash, bed, bowls, chew bones, glitter balls, gourmet foods, doggie biscuits and an instruction manual. The latter is a long, drawn-out, detailed guide to the care and feeding of Missy, who will be staying with me for a week while Grandmother is in the hospital.

The dog and I survey each other from across the room. She looks worried; she should be. Missy and I have never gotten along. To me, she is a spoiled rotten child, except no child has ever been spoiled as much or as long as this dog has been. Add to this that Missy is now an old spoiled child. She's in the winter of her life and is losing her hair, her teeth, her looks, and whatever charm she ever had. In addition, she has a tendency to piddle on the carpet, and her breath stinks.

Let's just say I have no affection for Missy. As I look at the list of commands lovingly written in Grandma's homemade manual, I grimace. Even doggie day spas don't offer such pampering.

I glare at Missy as I think of the effort and energy this worthless mutt will require. That is, of course, should I choose to comply with my grandmother's wishes. The temptation to boot Missy’s little butt into the backyard to hang out with my normal, well-adjusted canine is high. It would teach Her Highness a thing or two about what it's like to be a real dog. A week of reality might actually improve her character, but tempting as it is, I know I won't do it.

My grandmother holds a special place in my heart. When I have needed her, she has always been there. She has been my companion. She has seen my tears, and she has been my comfort. I love her, and she loves me—although possibly not as much as she loves this stupid dog.

To Grandma, Missy is not an old, decrepit mongrel. She is one of the great loves of her life, a dear friend and companion. Missy was with her when Grandpa died. It was Missy who saw her silent tears. Together they mourned for him. Together they adjusted to life without him. Missy gave Grandma a reason to begin each new day. Missy sat on her lap through the empty hours and walked with her through the lonely nights. Missy never left her side.

This ugly dog now holds her heart, and I have been chosen to care for Grandmother's most precious treasure. On a personal level, I loathe Missy, but this isn't about Missy. This is about Grandma. To lovingly care for that which she treasures is my gift to her. I will care for the dog for love of the master.

Sometimes our Master asks that we care for people who seem little more than mongrels. The old, rebellious, needy and wounded can be unattractive. We may even feel some are truly loathsome. The responsibility of caring for them may border on the sacrificial. These people may never appreciate our efforts. Some may even resent us for it. The worst part is, we are requested to regard them in ways they don't seem to deserve.

But it's not about them. It's about the Master. He considers whatever we do to them as being done for Him.

We don't see through the Master's eyes. We see the old and ailing that repulse our senses. He sees a precious friend valiantly and agonizingly taking their final steps home. What the Master sees in you is the potential patience for giving tender care.

We see the angry youth who is nothing but trouble. He sees a child, the victim of negligent abuse. The Master sees in you the depth of heart their healing requires.
We see the worthless, sly, and deceptive. He sees the faithful servant who has suffered great loss, is ravaged by bitter disappointment and drowning in hopelessness. The Master sees in you the eternal optimism that will infuse their heart with hope.

The Master is the one who has seen their tears. He sat with them through the empty hours and walked with them through the darkest nights. He never left their side. He is their dearest friend and companion. They hold His heart.

We have been asked to care for precious treasures. We have been chosen as agents of His love. His trust is an honor on us bestowed. Those who serve "for love of the Master" hold His heart.

“For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me. Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?' The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me'" (Matthew 25:35-40 NASB®).

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