Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: I SURRENDER ALL (to God) (don’t write about the song) (05/07/15)
- TITLE: master with a small 'm'
By Katherine (Kat) Kane
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I remember sitting here two weeks ago, believing that her limping and lethargy must be due to joint pain and expecting to go home with her treatment planned, which would hopefully cure it or at least make it better. The last thing I expected was to be told that her joints aren’t the cause of her pain and that further investigations would be needed. Hard as it was, I tried to ignore the clamour of questions and the panic rising within me as the vet outlined the pros and cons of various tests and ways forward.
Now, as Misty is called into the consulting room, the same fear bites. What if there’s no answer today? What if there is news and it’s the worst-case scenario? I have to keep on reminding myself that we aren’t there yet and crossing one bridge at a time is plenty enough.
We go through the marathon question session covering every detail of Misty’s health from puppyhood to now. I answer as best I can, whilst trying to read each nuance of the vet’s facial expressions and body language, hoping for some kind of indication. Anything that might provide an inkling of what’s wrong. Anything to give me hope.
I’m in awe of the level of trust I’m putting in a complete stranger dawns on me, although at the same time, it freaks me out. This is hard – Misty is such a precious part of my life. However, I have to accept that I cannot identify the cause of her pain, let alone correct it. I have no choice but to entrust her to someone else’s judgement and expertise.
The vet decides to carry out ultrasound tests and blood tests. The plan is to meet him to discuss the outcome later this afternoon. I hand her over and watch her trot off with him through the double doors. All I can do is hope and pray that this time there’s an answer, and that it does not involve bad news.
I head towards the café. No point hanging around the waiting room – the magazines and hot chocolate won’t alleviate the worry. I’m not going to achieve anything by sitting here stressing.
I’m finding it hard to accept that I have no control whatsoever over what’s happening. It goes against the grain of my responsibility. After all, I’m the master Misty depends on to meet her needs. I’m the one in the relationship who is supposed to be in control, right?
I stop in my tracks. Since when have I really been in control of anything? Granted, I may be the one who decides what food she eats and give her exercise and training, but I have no control over her genetic makeup. What makes me think I’m qualified to control anything so complex and fragile?
I certainly can’t claim responsibility for designing the amazing species ,i>Canis familiaris. But thankfully, I know the One who did. After all, He was the One who created both of us and entrusted her to my care. Whatever happens, she is not mine – she is His, and I’m merely the steward. That should cure me of any delusions of being in control – or of even thinking that I have a right to any control. The fact is, I don’t.
I close the main door behind me and look up. Although I’m placing my trust in a vet I can see but don’t know, I’m surrendering everything into the Hands of Abba, the God I can’t see, but yet know so well. It’s so liberating to place all that worry into bigger Hands than mine; the very Hands that created the universe. And whatever the outcome may be, those Hands will guide, heal and comfort.
I take one more look at the double doors as I cross the main exit. It doesn’t matter that I’m not in there with her. After all, I’m only her master with a small ‘m’.
Non-fiction. We still don’t have any answers yet.
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