The puppy weighs more than 50 pounds now. Her legs are twice as tall as her torso so she has no idea what her body can and cannot do. She just leaped over the back of my chair and bounced across my lap before doing a few skidding laps around the living room banging her head as she dove under the coffee table. All because a deer stepped out of the woods across the street. She stands there, giant ears over her tiny face, staring coolly at us, as if she has no idea what is causing all the commotion in my house.
I suppose it's fair payback for Scout chasing her fawn the other day. The doe also ate up another stand of hosta but I doubt she'll call us even. The puppy either for that matter since only humans care anything at all about what's fair. Naturally I care most when it's my tranquility and hosta that get ruined. Her baby doesn't even cross my mind.
As kids my siblings and I drove our mother crazy with our demands for fairness. We protested the amount of icing on each other's cupcakes with the moral righteousness of union organizers. We all share nicely now but at least for me, the mantra of childhood, "Hey, that's not fair!" didn't disappear. It went underground and comes into light as a sometimes sensation of loss, neglect or mistreatment. But like my child self I lose no sleep when the sweeter treat comes to me.
Once again, the task of faith is letting go. In Christ we already have all we need ~ grace, confidence, a purpose, and one another. Believing this we discover the freedom of having nothing to lose and the profound contentment of letting go of what we can joyfully do without.
~peace and prayers,