I saw a three legged dog this weekend. Her right hind leg was removed a few days ago, so it didn’t have any fur to hide the post surgery wound. The ten inch seam was there in all its stapled glory. When I first saw her, Bailey (the three legged dog) stood uncertainly on three of the four legs that God had given her and looked at me with the amazingly innocent eyes that all golden retrievers have. Except, I didn’t see her eyes. What I saw was the wound, the bandage around her tail (the car tire that destroyed her leg crushed her tail as well), and the bandage on her good hind leg where the IVs were inserted for the surgery. When I first saw Bailey, I didn’t see a dog, I saw pain.
The house I was staying at this weekend is owned by a vet who happens to be the sister of a friend of mine. She brought Bailey home so she could keep an eye on her while she recovered. After spending the weekend with Bailey, I didn’t really see the scar anymore. What I saw was a two year old golden retriever that was friendly and good natured. Had I seen Bailey on the street, had we just met in passing, all I would have seen of her was her pain. My first impression would have been all that I knew about her.
We do that with people, too. We see their scars and use them to assign their value. I know a man who is an alcoholic. That much about him is obvious. You can see it in his dress, his mannerisms, and his eyes. And if you passed him on the street, that’s all you’d know about him. Just another drunk. What you wouldn’t know was the love he has for his family, the gift he has for telling stories, or the way he can hypnotize you with his guitar for hours. The man has scars, physical and emotional, but he has gifts as well.
What I didn’t tell you about Bailey was that her owner, the one who ran over her leg, wanted to put her down. It was a matter of simple economics. You see, Bailey was supposed to be a breeding dog, and it would have cost more to fix her leg than it would cost to simply buy a new dog. Cost versus benefit. Simple economics.
And what about my drunken friend? Who here hasn’t thought to themselves how much nicer the world would be without the alcoholics, the poor, without all the broken and hopeless? It’d be easier to sweep them under the rug and start over then try to fix them. It would certainly be cheaper. Isn’t that just simple economics?
I’m happy to report that Christ is not an economist. He does not look at you and weigh the cost of your scars. He does not evaluate you based on what you can provide for Him. He will not reject you simply because you’ll cost too much time or money to fix. What He’ll do is love you, but not with the useless love of acquaintances, that love that says I love you just how you are because I really don’t care about you. Nope. He’ll love you with a love that will make you a better person, a love that will change you from the inside out. And sometimes that change hurts. Sometimes that change leaves scars. But it’s always worth it.
And that’s what I learned from a three legged dog.
The house I was staying at this weekend is owned by a vet who happens to be the sister of a friend of mine. She brought Bailey home so she could keep an eye on her while she recovered. After spending the weekend with Bailey, I didn’t really see the scar anymore. What I saw was a two year old golden retriever that was friendly and good natured. Had I seen Bailey on the street, had we just met in passing, all I would have seen of her was her pain. My first impression would have been all that I knew about her.
We do that with people, too. We see their scars and use them to assign their value. I know a man who is an alcoholic. That much about him is obvious. You can see it in his dress, his mannerisms, and his eyes. And if you passed him on the street, that’s all you’d know about him. Just another drunk. What you wouldn’t know was the love he has for his family, the gift he has for telling stories, or the way he can hypnotize you with his guitar for hours. The man has scars, physical and emotional, but he has gifts as well.
What I didn’t tell you about Bailey was that her owner, the one who ran over her leg, wanted to put her down. It was a matter of simple economics. You see, Bailey was supposed to be a breeding dog, and it would have cost more to fix her leg than it would cost to simply buy a new dog. Cost versus benefit. Simple economics.
And what about my drunken friend? Who here hasn’t thought to themselves how much nicer the world would be without the alcoholics, the poor, without all the broken and hopeless? It’d be easier to sweep them under the rug and start over then try to fix them. It would certainly be cheaper. Isn’t that just simple economics?
I’m happy to report that Christ is not an economist. He does not look at you and weigh the cost of your scars. He does not evaluate you based on what you can provide for Him. He will not reject you simply because you’ll cost too much time or money to fix. What He’ll do is love you, but not with the useless love of acquaintances, that love that says I love you just how you are because I really don’t care about you. Nope. He’ll love you with a love that will make you a better person, a love that will change you from the inside out. And sometimes that change hurts. Sometimes that change leaves scars. But it’s always worth it.
And that’s what I learned from a three legged dog.
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