Like dogs, we don’t get grace either. We think that God blesses us because we try hard. We deserve His favor and become disgruntled when it’s not forthcoming. Kind of like the older son in the parable of the prodigal.
Grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ (2 Pet. 3:18).
My wife and I are taking care of our daughter’s dachshund while she is at the beach for a week with her family. His name is Jackson, named after the painter Jackson Pollock. Jackson is an artist in his own right. His specialty is nihilistic expression. He can make food disappear into nothingness. Extend him a biscuit with your hand and you might find one of your fingers missing as well.
Jackson does pretty well considering his fifteen years. He can’t see well. He can’t hear at all. But his sense of smell seems to do just fine in its function as a food detector and taste enhancer.
As I watched Jackson slowly, steadily lumber about the room on his arthritic legs hidden by his long dark fur, doing his best impersonation of a Roomba, I felt a bit sorry for him. So I rummaged through the doggy bag my daughter brought with his things and found a pouch of biscuits. Opening it up, I sorted through trying to decide what Jackson would like from the palette of colors that I assumed reflected different flavors. I opted not to try one myself to find out.
Picking one that I imagined to be a medium rare porterhouse steak biscuit, I presented it to Jackson, not foolish enough to put it to his mouth but experienced enough to put it on the floor in front of him. He was delighted. I think he even chewed it rather than swallowing it whole.
Jackson was not grateful at the small blessing (Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?). Rather, he lifted his cataract-glazed eyes up to me with hopeful expectancy of more. I could see the wheels turning as he tried to figure out what he did to merit the biscuit.