Life Lessons (and Prayer Prompts) from a Dog

If you’ve been around this blog for awhile, you’ll remember how frightened our dog Max was, when he met a big black lab on the boardwalk:

A few weeks ago, Minnie met (and was terrified of) the very same dog.

Minnie and the Black Lab

Which reminded me of the lesson Max taught me, back in his day:  Namely, that it doesn’t matter what we are facing, God does not want us to be anxious or scared. His love – his perfect love – drives out fear.

(Even when the thing we are scared of is fake.)

You can read more about confronting fear here, if you missed that earlier post. But today just happens to be Minnie’s FIRST BIRTHDAY (a Valentine’s baby!), and as I was scrolling through photos of her this past week, I realized that she has taught us just as many lessons (and prompted just as many scripture-based prayers) as Max did.

And so, if you’ll be so good as to indulge me, I’ll share just a few. These are all areas where I need God’s help; feel free to borrow any prayers that appeal to you too.

Encourage one another daily.

Minnie and lacrosse

When Minnie joined our family last year, she didn’t have much choice about where she would go, or what she would do. But she tends to be very supportive and enthusiastic about pretty much every endeavor. You get the idea, looking at her, that she is hoping that you will succeed.

Heavenly Father, help me be someone who encourages other people every day. (Hebrews 3:13)

Whatever you do, do it for God.

 

Dog Minnie and laundry

“Whatever you do,” the Bible says, “work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord.” When you’ve got some big, important project to do, it can be easy to tell yourself that you are “serving the Lord.” Laundry, though? Not so much. (But hey,  God is all about making things clean…)

Heavenly Father, no matter how big or how boring my job is, let me work with all my heart, as though I am working for you. (Colossians 3:23)

Listen more than you speak.

Minnie has this one down. She doesn’t speak – she barely even barks. But whenever we hang out together, I am reminded of how nice it is to have someone who is always willing to listen. Which is a hard thing for me, sometimes. I like to talk.

Heavenly Father, help me be quick to listen and slow to speak. (James 1:19)

Pray about everything.

Dog and Prayer Book

Do animals pray? I don’t know. But Minnie has certainly been exposed to a lot of good books on the subject, and she’s heard plenty of prayers. And if she could talk, I bet she’d quote Paul:  “Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything.”

Heavenly Father, help me exchange worry for trust, praying about everything and thanking you for what you have done. (Philippians 4:6)

Know when to rest.

Dog resting on Dad

Here again, Minnie sets a stellar example. Because she’s just like me. She spends a lot of her day racing around. (Sometimes in circles.) But she knows when to quit, when to be still. She trusts that someone is keeping her safe.

Heavenly Father, life can be crazy and wild. Help me be still and know that you are God. (Psalm 46:10)

Love each other.

Dog Minnie and Friends

Life is better with friends; we all know that. And when Jesus tells us to love each other, he doesn’t leave us to try to be a good friend on our own. We love, he says, because he first loved us.

Heavenly Father, show us how to love other people with the same self-sacrificing love you lavish on us. Let us love out of your love, because you loved us first. (1 John 4:9-19)

Sooo…

Happy Birthday, Minnie. Here’s to many more years of praying the scriptures with you!

And to everyone else: Happy Valentine’s Day. You are LOVED! ❤️

Minnie on the Lawn

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How to Keep Christ in Christmas (even if Jesus goes missing)

I was addressing Christmas cards – I’d gotten all the way to the “H’s” – when I heard a jingle-jangle in the next room. It wasn’t quite sleigh bells; it sounded more like…ornaments.

Before I could get up to investigate, Minnie poked her head around the corner. #Busted.

Minnie busted

Minnie's mouth

Minnie and Ornament

I didn’t blame her, though. The fact that the puppy had such easy access to the Christmas decorations was mostly my fault. In my haste to get the house prepped for the season (I had cards to mail! Presents to buy! Cookies to bake!), I’d played “beat the buzzer” one afternoon. I’d grabbed the boxes out of the attic, set a timer, and decked the halls quick as a wink.

(It wasn’t quite like my friend Jeannie, who got shatterproof ornaments this year so that her husband and sons could just throw them at the treecheck out the video on Instagram @JeannieCunnion – but it was close. Safe to say that none of our stockings were hung by the chimney with what Santa would think of as “care.”)

And honestly? My B+ attempt at decorating (okay, C+) didn’t bother me much, not even after Minnie rearranged things a bit. What got me was when I walked past our Nativity set and noticed that something didn’t look right…

Nativity with emoji

Jesus was missing.

Jesus was missing.

Now, I know some people don’t put their baby Jesus into their manger scene until Christmas morning, but not us. We let him lie there, under Mary’s watchful gaze, all season long. I like looking at him, too.

I couldn’t point the finger at Minnie this time. Not because Jesus didn’t look chewable, but because our set is up high, out of her reach. Where could Jesus have gone? I mean, I always take such good care of him, nestling him in the box right next to Mary when I put them back in the attic each year.

The box…

I scrambled back up to the attic and shoved my hand into the carton. Sure enough, amid wads of old newspaper and tissue, I felt something small and hard. It was Jesus, wrapped up in his manger.

I wouldn’t have thought it was literally possible to take Christ out of Christmas, but I’d pretty much done it. Racing around like a deranged elf on a holiday bender, I’d spent myself on all the wrong things. I’d been prepping my home, not my heart. And I was #busted.

Let every heart prepare him room

I needed to change. But I didn’t know how. So here’s what I did.

I asked God for help.

“I want to see Advent like the angels,” I said. “I don’t want it to be all about cookies and gifts (although I do like those things). I want my heart to be ready for Jesus. Please help.”

I waited awhile, and an impression – one that felt like the Holy Spirit’s imprint – began to form in my mind.

Give your agenda to me. That was the first thing. Instead of just making my to-do list and then knocking things out, I sensed God prompting me to pray over each day, inviting his presence into the things that I thought had to “get done” (and being willing to release them when he showed me that they didn’t).

Thank me each night. That sounded like a good idea too. Instead of collapsing into bed after a long day of wrapping and tagging, I resolved to replay the hours in my mind, reviewing conversations I’d had, emails I’d sent, the errands I’d run. I realized that if I paused long enough, I would see God’s hand in the mix. I could thank him for the guidance he’d given along the way – as well as for his forgiveness, when I failed to heed it.

Pray for your Christmas card friends.  Ahhh. God was reminding me of a long-held tradition in our family, one where we’d open cards together each night and pray for the families who’d sent them. That pattern started when our kids were young and we moved every few years and we wanted them to remember the friends we’d made along the way. Praying through the cards seemed like the best kind of connection. As empty nesters, Robbie and I had gotten away from this practice; God was nudging me to renew it.

Those three thoughts didn’t sound all that life-changing, but I’m trying them out. And they’re helping.

Jesus is the Reason for the Season

What about you? Are there Christmas traditions or habits that help keep you focused on the Reason for the Season (which, by the way, is my favorite ornament, and one that I put waaaay out of Minne’s reach)?

I’d love to hear your ideas, and I bet others would too. If you’ve got a minute and can pop over to Instagram (@jodie_berndt) or Facebook (@JodieBerndtWrites) and leave a comment on this post, I’d be grateful.

And in the meantime, here’s a prayer that could well have inspired that “prepare him room” line in the Joy to the World song. This one was originally written by the Apostle Paul, and I think it’s a great verse to carry us through the next two weeks – and  beyond!

Heavenly Father,

I pray that out of your glorious, unlimited resources you will empower us with inner strength through your Spirit, so that Christ will make his home in our hearts as we trust in him. (Ephesians 3:16-17, NLT)

Amen.

 

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Champion or Misfit: Jay Huff knows how both those shoes feel

Jay Huff–as in, Jay Huff of the U.Va. National Championship Basketball Team–was in the house last week.

Well, not my house.

Although he did stop by for a bit. And I am pretty sure Minnie’s in love…

Jay came to Virginia Beach with his dad, Coach Mike Huff, as part of a speaker series our church hosts every year. And even though I said I was taking a break from weekly blogging this summer (and I really am), and even though I know some of you don’t give a rip about basketball (that’s okay; people vary), the stuff these guys talked about was just too good not to share.

Stuff like what humility looks like, especially when life isn’t fair.

Evidently, Jay has a super high radar for what’s right and what’s wrong–and when he sees an offense, he feels compelled to speak up. Which sounds great in theory, but doesn’t work so well when you’re hooping it up and the “wrong” is a bad call from the ref. As a high school player, Jay often protested such calls–and wound up setting a record for technical fouls.

Coach Huff helped put things in perspective.

“Nobody,” Mike told his son, “got a worse set of calls than Christ did. He got as bad a call as you can get; he had a perfect life, and yet he was crucified for my mistakes.

“And he didn’t say a word. He stood there and he took it.”

Those words made an impact, ultimately leading Jay to show respect for officials and embrace humility–which, as it turns out, is one of Coach Tony Bennett’s Five Pillars.

Another life lesson came in a sporting goods store.

As a teenager, Jay wore size 15 shoes (he’s a 17 now), and finding them was not always easy. Mike recalled one father-son shopping trip when Jay couldn’t locate a single pair in his size.

“This world isn’t made for me,” the young man sighed.

“You were not made for this world,” Mike gently replied.

Even if Jay didn’t know the exact biblical reference (verses like John 15:19 and Philippians 3:20), he got the point. And when asked what advice he might give to the young people in the audience on Sunday night, he shared his own experience–both at U.Va. and in high school–with not “fitting in.” Even winning a championship, he said, doesn’t change the fact that life, for a Christian, is not always easy.

“You’re going to be a misfit in a lot of situations,” Jay told the crowd. “Get ready for that.”

That “misfit” comment really hit home with me; I wrote about my own struggles in Praying the Scriptures for Your Teens. In fact, it wasn’t until I got to college that I began to feel like I’d finally found “my people.” And, much to my delight, two of them–Barbie and Susan, pictured above–showed up to hear Jay speak!

(And yes, Jay really is 7’1.”)

(I thought if I wore 3″ heels that would help. But…no.)

Perhaps my favorite takeaway from the night was about our identity.

“If it’s all about basketball,” Mike said, “or whatever your activity might be, if that’s where you find your identity, then your life is going to be a whole series of ups and downs. When you’re good–when you have a great game–everybody’s gonna be happy; you’re gonna be happy. If you have a bad game or a bad season, or you get cut from the team or whatever, then you’re devastated.”

By contrast, he said, “if you have an identity in Christ, then those things are just events that happen along the path.”

Jay agreed, saying that he wanted to be known for more than being a basketball player–even if he realizes his goal of playing in the NBA.

“I see a lot of people,” he said, “who get so caught up in basketball and the highlight tapes and the social media posts and everything like that…but when that becomes the sole thing that you feel like you’re valued for, that’s when that goes wrong.

“And so, I’ve always thought that I’d much rather be a good friend. A good son. A good boyfriend–hopefully.”

(Sorry ladies; he’s taken.)

“I’d rather be known for that,” he continued, “because one day all the basketball things that have happened, all the championships, all of that–they won’t mean that much to me. But what will mean a lot are the friendships and relationships I’ve built up over the years, and how I’ve loved people and how people have hopefully loved me.

“At the end of my life, I don’t want to look back and have basketball be the highlight.”

Coming from a national champion, those are some powerful words.

And there’s more where they came from–plus commentary on everything from what Coach Bennett tells his players at halftime (“But you can’t tell the other coaches I told you!” Jay joked), to what U.Va.’s prospects look like for next year, to whether or not Ty Jerome meant to miss that free throw.

Did he?

If you want to find out (or if you just want to know what other great things the Huffs shared), click here to download the whole interview.

And if you just want a prayer for those times when you or someone you love feels like a misfit, why not echo the prayer Jesus prayed for all his disciples, right after he said that we “do not belong to the world,” any more than he did?

Heavenly Father,

We belong to you. Protect us by the power of your name. Fill us with joy, make us holy, and teach us your word. And may we experience such perfect unity that the world will know that you sent Jesus, and that you love us as much as you love him. (Excerpted from John 17:9-22)

Amen

❤️

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Happy Mother’s Day from a New Mom

You need to know, right off the bat, that I am not someone who thinks that “Dogs are people, too.” I realize that I’ve probably offended half of you in saying that, but I can’t help that. The way I see it, dogs are dogs.

That being said, there are some definite similarities between humans and dogs. And ever since Minneapolis Bennett joined our family a few weeks ago, I’ve been having more than a few New Mom Feels. I don’t know which is harder, raising a baby or raising a puppy.

So far, I think it’s a tie.

Babies can’t feed themselves, right? Well neither could Minnie, at first. Thank goodness for four inches of Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations. “Every dog,” as Shakespeare reminds us (page 137), “will have its day.”

And the potty training thing? Getting to our yard requires a descent of five steps, and Minnie wasn’t having it. When I marveled at her reluctance, Robbie put things in perspective: “Asking her to go down those steps is like asking you to jump off a five-story building.”

Alrighty then.

Honestly though? The thing that made me feel most like a new mom happened just this past week, when I decided that Minnie should learn how to walk.

As in, on a leash.

As in, with me.

I did what any good parent might do. I asked Google.

I’ll spare you the details, other than to say that whichever dog-brain wrote that Step One in the teaching process is to “drop your end of the leash on the ground” needs to maybe be a little more clear on Step Two.

And all I could think, as I stood there staring at my dog-child while she stared back at me–chewing away at the tether and clearly not eager to stay anywhere close to my feet–was that God knew exactly how I felt.

Seriously.

God knows how all parents feel–especially when communication breaks down with our kids, or when they choose to walk down a path that we know is not good. I love how candid God is in Hosea 11, as he reveals his own parenting struggles:

“When Israel was a child,” God says, “I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. But the more they were called, the more they went away from me.”

(Can anybody relate?)

And then God goes on, talking about how he taught his children to walk: “I led them with cords of human kindness, with ties of love.”

Here again, I’ll spare you the details, (you can read em here if you want), but the nutshell version is that it did not go well. Israel wanted no part of God’s parenting. They pushed all of his buttons, in the worst kind of ways.

(I’ll ask it again:  Can anybody relate?)

And yet.

And yet God, even in his frustration, found his wrath trumped by compassion. He couldn’t help himself. He roared–not in anger, but with the fiercest of love–and called his wayward ones home.

Which brings me, in a roundabout sort of way, to Mother’s Day.

If you find yourself raising a child who wants to go their own way–whether it’s a toddler whose potty training is not going much better than Minnie’s, a teen whose ears seem deaf to your voice, or an adult who has walked away from their faith (and maybe your family in the process), know this:

We’ve all been there.

“We all,” the Bible says, “have gone astray–each of us to his own way.” And the second part of that verse tells us that God–out of love–put our sin squarely on Jesus. Compassion trumped wrath, once again.

So here’s the good Mother’s Day news, for moms (and dads) in the parenting trenches: Just like God could not help but pursue Israel, so he cannot help but go after our kids. And our children, as I’ve said over and over again in this space, are never out of God’s reach.

Hang in there, Sweet Momma. You are loved. And so are your kids.

With the fiercest, and sweetest, of loves.

❤️

Oh, and one more thing. Or maybe three.

First, summer is here, and the blog’s hitting vacation mode. I’ll still write, but maybe not every week. (I figure we can all use the break.) 😉

Second, if you haven’t gotten Mom a card yet, there’s still time. What you write doesn’t have to be fancy or long; feel free to borrow from this stellar example, created by my friend Elizabeth’s six-year-old son:

 

“Joy comes in the morning. Go Hoos Go.” Clearly, that boy knows his Bible. And his basketball.

And finally, you all know how much I appreciate Eugene Peterson, and when I was re-reading Hosea 11, I decided to check it out in The Message. And I laughed out loud.

Because this is me, yesterday, giving up on Minnie’s walking lessons:

And this is Eugene, rendering Israel’s response to God’s love:

And this is Minnie, letting us know just how she feels about the whole “I’m with you” thing:

😂

Happy Mother’s Day!

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More than a Tee Shirt…

I did an Instagram Story last week where I wore this tee shirt:

Wait. That’s a lie.

I didn’t do the story; my son’s girlfriend did. I am, as we know, painfully slow when it comes to social media, but Instagram seems to be Mary’s love language. She just held up the phone while I talked and the next thing I knew, it was posted–with hashtags, a spinning basketball, and a blinking Easter cross!

More is more, eh? I love that girl.

Anyhow.

The Insta Story was meant to spread the word on some new book releases…

  • Holy Week (a board book from the “Baby Believer” series)
  • The From Me to You Conversation Journals (which parents and kids pass back and forth)
  • and The Path of Life (which you’ll hear more about next week, cuz it’s a great gift for Mom)

…but I got more than a few comments on the tee shirt.

Which made me think that it might be time to revisit the post I did exactly three years ago, the week after Easter. Which was also the week after U.Va. frittered away a big second-half lead and found themselves booted from the 2016 NCAA Basketball Tournament.

Here’s what I wrote, back then. And if you’re not a U.Va. fan and you can’t take ONE MORE WORD about Tony Bennett, please don’t unsubscribe or leave negative comments. Just scroll to the end. Because all of us–even Tarheels and Tigers–can use the promise of JOY now and then.

Joy in the Morning

Whelp, my beloved Wahoos lost to Syracuse last Sunday night.

Every U.Va. fan I know has been in mourning this week, except for maybe our dogs, who are high-fiving (pawing?) themselves over the fact that I won’t make them dress up to play Carolina tomorrow.

IMG_4593

The loss was a blow, but it was Easter Sunday, and I can’t think of a more fitting day for Coach Tony Bennett to make the comment that he did. When reporters asked what he’d told the team after the game, Bennett said:

“Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning.”

Bennett said the words came from an old church hymn. They’re also, incidentally, in the title of a book by one of my most favorite fiction authors, P.G. Wodehouse (click here for the hardcover version, here for the paperback):

photo-1

But, really, the promise of joy after sorrow is older than both the hymn and the book. It comes from Psalm 30:5.

And like so many of God’s promises, this one might be hard to believe, particularly when you are in the midst of suffering and you can’t see any way out. But, to quote Coach Bennett, “Joy is coming…I know it doesn’t feel that way, but I know it will be true.”

I know it doesn’t feel that way, but I know it will be true.

Could there be any more encouraging words? If you find yourself aching today, or if someone you love is walking through a season of sorrow and it doesn’t feel like things will ever get better, take hold of the Psalm 30 promise. Make it your prayer.

Because we don’t know what the future will bring, but we know that God is faithful. And we know that He loves us. And that his goal is to make our joy complete.

Joy is coming.

Heavenly Father,

When _____ feels overwhelmed with pain or sadness, may they find hope in and strength in your promise: “Weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.” (Psalm 30:5)

Amen.

❤️

And P.S., two things:

First, if you want your own “Joy” tee, click here.

And second, if you’re a regular reader, you probably know that Max and Khaki (pictured above in their U.Va. gear) both got drafted into the Great Beyond. We miss them dearly, but this little gal (who arrived just last week!) is keeping us on our toes. When she’s not trying to eat them.

Blog friends, meet Minnie(apolis) Bennett, aka “Minnie.” 💙🧡

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