Tenderness
That word itself deserves a moment of silence.
It is sad yet beautiful when things you never thought could teach you life lessons, do.
Her name was Daisy, and she walked alongside us through a very difficult season. We half-jokingly called her our therapy dog.
Our marriage was being tested — we learned how dreadful it was to wound the one you love. My wife and I would just hold each other, whispering that we liked each other. We learned that “like” can sometimes be more powerful than love?
Then one day, as I inwardly raged in self-disappointment, I lashed out at Daisy. A beautiful black lab, she cowered and looked at me, asking, “Why are you treating me this way? I just want to love you.”
I had to choose: justify my rage, or invite wisdom and love. I sat down and gently held her. In that moment, I chose tenderness.
I’d like to say something like “I just wept,” but that would be a lie. I did realize how hard my heart had been for too my years, so I decided to ask God to help me to be tender.
In future moments, when it would have been easy to be angry, I invoked a very complicated prayer,
“Father, please come into this moment. Thank you.”
That evolved into the much more complex,
“Please come. Please come. Please come.”
I wish I’d had that encounter with Daisy when I was 12. It would have saved so many others, especially my family.
Tenderness, kindness, gentleness, meekness. Think I’ll need the fullness of the Holy Spirit and the grace of our Lord to make the right decision in each moment.
Are you in?
PS. That photo is me with Daisy on her last day. We did the immensely hard thing as she was suffering from rampant cancer. Daisy, we love you. You taught us so much.