Woman's Best Friend

Gryffin on adoption day, resting after his 1st bath.

by Rev. Laura Barclay

A few months ago, my husband and I adopted a dog from the Kentucky Humane Society. After three years of allergy shots, I was ready for my first canine. We had been to the shelter several times and never found the right one for us: relatively quiet, good with kids so my niece could play with him/her, medium to small in size, and a low shed breed. As we looked through the cages, I saw a ball of matted fur in the back of one off to the side. Large brown eyes stared out of a mound of dirty white hair.

The name on the card read "Walter". It wasn't his real name (if he was ever given one) but a moniker given by the intake volunteers, which didn't seem to fit his obvious youth. I slowly removed him from the cage and he walked around with me, hovering close to my ankles. While I knew we should keep looking at the rest of the dogs, this one had crawled into my heart. He kept gazing up at me intently and expectantly. I hated even putting him back in the cage to fill out the adoption forms--I was a afraid he'd think I didn't want him, or worse, there would be a mix-up and he would be gone when I returned.

In the days to come as we bathed him, re-named him "Gryffin", took him to the vet to cure his kennel cough, weaned him off of people food and tried to convince him we'd never abandon him, I learned that he was found at a gas station in the small town of Mayfield, KY.  He tried to crawl into the car of a newspaper delivery woman before she called the pound to come and collect him. He was transferred to Louisville because of his sweet nature and high probability of adoption.

Gryffin whimpers and cries during storms, watches us sadly when we leave the house but no longer slams himself against the door to follow. He has gradually eaten his meals more slowly since he trusts that there will be another soon to follow. He still has panic attacks, but far more rarely unless brought on by his bad allergies. Yes, he's a handful--with him I adopted his anxieties, his health problems, and his fears. But he's given me such a blessing in return.

Gryffin lets me style his hair between cuddles.

On days when I'm stressed, he jumps in my lap and forces me to play. He knocks me out of a downward spiral of anxieties because he is highly attuned to his parent's moods. Gryffin's demanding sense of play time forces me to exercise more which also lowers my stress and reframes my mood. More than anything, I have found it incredibly rewarding to help be responsible, along with my husband, for guiding this little guy out of his shell and watching him become more relaxed, loving and confident every day.

I'm learning about that oldest and most ancient of relationships and what having "dominion over the animals" means. It's a great responsibility to care for this puppy, discarded and unwanted by someone who didn't or couldn't understand the depth of that task. In caring for Gryffin, I'm also caring for myself. I'm being reminded of the blessing of God's creation, the importance of being connected to all creatures in it great and small, and my heart has grown larger and more grateful.

I'd love to hear from you: Do you have a special relationship with an animal? What have you learned from that relationship? Leave me a comment!

This column originally appeared in Next Sunday Resources.

A Lesson in Humility

by Rev. Laura Barclay

A few days ago, during a respite from one of the many polar vortexes that have blown through Louisville, I took my dog for a walk. My neighbor called me over.

“Hey there! I saw you fall the other day.”

“Oh, yeah. I slipped on the ice.” I laughed nervously and stared at my dog.

“Yeah, you fell. Then you laid there a while. You looked like you were hurt, and I thought you might have moaned a little. I was about to come over and check on you, but you stirred a bit, fell back down, pulled yourself up, and then limped slowly inside your house. I thought it was best not to disturb you, since you were probably icing your wound.”

Thanks, neighbor. He keeps an eye out for those around him and not a lot makes it past him, but I could’ve done without the painstaking retelling of one of my most recent examples of clumsiness. The only thing that makes this story even more embarrassing is that I was running back inside the house to change my shoes when I fell. I had realized I was about to take my sick dog to the vet in my house shoes instead of my snow boots.

We’ve all been there—tripping on the street and moving quickly along like we just decided to change our pace, as if anyone besides children would suddenly decide to start skipping instead of walking. Or maybe we spill a drink on our shirt and then decide to wear our coat to cover it for the rest of the evening. “Oh no, I’m not uncomfortable. I love sweating.”

But here’s the thing: life is too short to pretend we are perfect. As a recovering perfectionist, I should know. This means that where I would normally get very anxious about completing a project or meeting a new group of people, I now just try to do the best I can. If I fail or people don’t like me, so what? Neither of those so-called potential failures should be the measure of success to Christians, who are commanded to love their God and their neighbors as themselves. That’s easier said than done, and I can still get very anxious about the smallest things. But having a mantra of “so what?” has been helpful during those moments when I screw up or my neighbor slowly regales me with tales of my face plant or I just can’t seem to get it together.

Paul advises a church in Romans 12:3, “For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of yourself more highly than you ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned.” Paul’s point is that we are all part of the body of Christ, and each one of us has gifts and a role to play. We don’t have to be perfect or have it all together. We are meant to work in community to help one another and embody the love of Christ. We can fall down, mess up, be awkward and fail. Each one of us is beautiful despite (and even because of) our shortcomings.

You are a member of the body of Christ. You are gifted and special. Let’s work together to share this message with all God’s children.

This article also appears on Next Sunday Resources.

LOVE > WORRY

Dr. Dennis Atwood

So how’s that “new year’s resolution” thing working out for you? I’ve never been a big fan of this once-a-year ritual. I guess it’s the whole “turning over a new leaf” syndrome that bugs me most. People resolve to do things better or differently all the while knowing that it lasts about as long as those after Christmas sales. So why go through the motions of kidding yourself once a year? If you’re really serious about change or a deeper commitment toward something or someone then why not follow-through when no one is looking or paying attention? This has been my basic approach when it comes to New Year’s resolutions… until this year.

December 14, 2012, changed something in me—as it did many people across our country. Twenty-six innocent victims in Newtown, Connecticut. Children. Teachers. Why on earth? How could this evil happen? In the days that followed people plastered Facebook, Twitter, and the “letter to the editor” department with anger, sharp words, extremism, shock, horror, dumb ideas, and some genuine human compassion. You’ve heard it said: “The problem is guns! No, the problem is people! No, the problem is government! The real problem is culture! God has been kicked out of our schools! There are already too many laws!”

Actually, the problem… is me. Amidst all the pontificating and scrambling for easy solutions to large complex issues, the one thing I have some measure of control over is… me. Aside from the terrible sadness for those grieving families and the feelings of anger at the evil that took away precious lives, what later hit me like a ton of bricks is the stark realization that I don’t love enough and I worry too much. It’s not that I don’t love people (after all it is in my job description) or that I sit around worrying about stuff all the time (just some of the time). It’s more about being fully present in each moment doing what God put me here to do—to love not worry.

One of the outcomes of that tragic day in December is the sobering reality that life is too fragile and sacred to waste on hate, apathy, indifference and worry. There will be many fairly intelligent people debating and wrangling over what to do in order to make public spaces safer in the coming weeks and months. We should pray that tangible steps can be agreed upon in a sensible manner that will help make our schools and communities safer places in which to learn and live. We should all be willing to support steps for the common good even if I don’t personally agree with every detail. But let’s not kid ourselves. No amount of extreme legislation or extreme freedom will solve all our societal ills. It is ultimately and personally a matter of the heart.

Therefore, I have resolved… to love more and worry less. It will be hard to measure whether I’m actually being successful at it or not. There will be old tendencies to break when life gets too busy, when things go wrong, and when unplanned expenses arise. But by the grace of God I will choose to embrace each new day spending more time loving my family and less time worrying about things over which I have no control.

Perhaps the stickiest part will come when I venture out to love those beyond my immediate circle. God’s love does that. Christ calls us to love those whom we hold close and those whom we hold at arm’s length. Scripture says that love is patient and kind; it’s not flashy or arrogant, rude or selfish. It’s even greater than faith and hope. (1 Corinthians 13)

God’s love is ultimately the most powerful and potent force in the universe and it’s available to everyone. My task is to let it begin in me. That’s how we bring God’s kingdom on earth… one person at a time. So if your “new year’s resolution” isn’t working out so well may I suggest an alternative? Love more… worry less. This will be my daily mantra in 2013.

Dennis Atwood is the pastor of FBC Mount Olive. This article originally appeared on his blog.

Choosing Thankfulness

by Rev. Len Keever

The apostle Paul wrote to the good folks in Philippi, "Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus" (Philippians 4:7).

All my life I have heard statements like, "Don't sweat the small stuff!" and "Ninety-five percent of the stuff we worry about never happens." When I studied Family Systems Theory we discussed how we spend so much time trying to change others when we only have control over ourselves. In other words, I can work to change me, but only you can work to change you.

Reinhold Niebuhr gave us the Serenity Prayer: "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference." This is especially poignant knowing that Niebuhr was an American theologian active in trying to relate the realities of faith to a world embroiled in a Great Depression, the threats of Communism and Fascism, two World Wars, and the advent of nuclear armament. The wisdom to know the difference between what we can control and what is under the authority of God is indeed very valuable.

We worry so much about things over which we do not have control. So many thoughts come to mind when I think about how worry affects us: worry never fed anything but an ulcer; worry is a barren desert where faith can find no root; worry robs productivity and kills initiative. The opposite of trust is worry; the opposite of submission is anxiety (another word for worry). To worry is an attempt to take control from God.

When Jesus taught his disciples in the 6th chapter of Matthew, "No one can serve two masters," he immediately said, "Therefore I tell you, do not worry." Worry can become a false god when we give it a voice to influence us. The Greek word translated "therefore" connects Matthew 6:24 and 25; we can easily say, "You cannot serve God and worry." We are not fully listening to Jesus when we think that only wealth can become our master. There are lots of things that undermine a life of devotion. Worry is one of them.

Eugene Peterson translates this passage in The Message: 

Don't fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God's wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It is a wonderful thing that happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.

It is no accident that Paul wrote just a few verses later, "I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances...I can do everything through him who gives me strength."

For those not attuned to Christ, this can be a very anxious time. But for the Christian, it is a time to trust in God, to give our present and future to Jesus. God reigns over all creation. Let us praise God! Let us be thankful! God is still on God's throne. Why worry? Be peaceful!

Len Keever is the pastor of First Baptist Church of Dunn. This article originally appeared in their church newsletter, The Builder.

High Anxiety

by Dr. Dennis Herman


Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. (Paul’s words to the Philippians.)

Chaplains and pastors were once taught to be “a non-anxious presence” while ministering to persons in high anxiety and crises. We learned after a few years that such a goal was too idealistic. Now, chaplains and pastors are encouraged to be “a less anxious” presence during times of crises or high anxiety.

We wish we could follow Paul’s encouragement to be anxious about nothing. The fact is, we are anxious. It’s the way we are made. But we are to address that anxiety by the disciplines of our faith, specifically by prayer. Paul simply reminds us to rejoice, to give thanks, and then present our requests to God.

Sometimes we read Paul’s words and we grit our teeth declaring, “I will not be anxious; I will not be anxious; I will not be anxious.” Have you ever noticed the more you tell yourself not to do something, the more prone you are to do it? Like the MRI technician who kept asking me, “Are you claustrophobic? Do you have a fear of crawling into caves? Would you like anxiety medication? Does it bother you to be in a dark, closed space with no air with a dozen monkeys beating on a tin can placed over your head?” (Actually, he only asked the first question a couple different ways, but they all seemed to say, “Be anxious, this MRI will drive you nuts!”) Then he told me “not to move” while lying in what appeared to be an air conditioned coffin. Please, just give me some strong medication next time and forget the verbal encouragement.

We do get anxious. We could count the ways, but the fact is that anxiety is personal. Some folks just seem genetically engineered or environmentally conditioned to feel high anxiety. For all of us who deal with anxiety, here’s a prayer I like. Maybe it will be one you can say in times of high anxiety, low anxiety, or MRI anxiety:

"Embolden my spirit by the presence of Your Holy Spirit within me. Assure me that nothing separates me from Your love. Remind me that you will provide all my needs. If I must be anxious, let me trust that You will not be, and in that relationship of trust may I know that all will be as You will it. Amen."

Dennis Herman is the interim pastor of Oxford Baptist Church in Oxford, NC. This article originally appeared in their church newsletter, The Forecaster.

Why Doomsday Predictions Fail the Gospel

by Rev. Laura Barclay

Many of you saw, or rather couldn’t help but see, billboards for the past six months guaranteeing the rapture on May 21. I admit that I rolled my eyes at yet another self-proclaimed prophet who swears they know the hour and day of the Apocalypse (see a list of some of the failed predictions at http://www.religioustolerance.org/end_wrl2.htm). This particular “prophet” has now predicted the end of the world four times (May 21, 1988; September 7, 1994; May 21st, 2011; and now he's rescheduled it for October 21, 2011), and happened to rake in $80 million from contributors between 2005 & 2009.

NPR did before and after stories of the May 21st followers. Many of these people and families had quit their jobs and budgeted only to live to that date. Some choose to believe the date was off by a few days or weeks. Others claim it must have been a spiritual rapture, and that salvation is no longer possible. One more level-headed man said, “we obviously don’t understand the Scriptures the way that we should.”

The humility exhibited in the last statement might be the healthiest approach, and one that we could incorporate into our lives. The danger of a premillenialist eschatological view is that people believe they can escape the problems of the world, being sucked up into heaven. The non-chosen are left to deal with catastrophes while the chosen look down from the clouds. This begs the question: Why care for your neighbor, work for peace and reconciliation, and care of creation if God’s just going to snatch you up before destroying the world? Doesn’t this view negate the work Jesus asked us to do—loving our neighbor, healing the sick, caring for the poor and oppressed? Maybe, after countless failed predictions throughout Christian history, we might just realize that there is not a magic get out of jail free card. As followers of Christ, we must do the hard kingdom work he describes in the gospels through parables and examples.

While there is apocalyptic language, much of it refers to events that have already occurred (like the destruction of the Second Temple in Jerusalem in 70 CE). Some passages talk about Christ returning, but the writer of the Gospel of Matthew cautions in Matthew 24, “about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father” (NRSV). Wouldn’t it be far more beneficial to spend time meditating on the parables and actions of Jesus rather than obsessing over and potentially misusing the more obscure and puzzling literature of the Bible, especially if we take it out of context and misunderstand the meaning? Jesus’ words and actions are timeless because they address real problems that require a response of hard work and an open heart. To lose sight of this for recycled, failed prophesies doesn’t do the gospel justice.

What Are You So Worried About?

by Rev. David Stratton

I think we received more requests for a recording of the sermon of this past Sunday than any sermon I've ever preached. I'm not convinced the sermon was all that good. It just took up a topic that is a struggle for many people: worry.

Sunday's sermon was the second in a series on the story of a leper named Naaman found in 2 Kings 5. In this installment we focused on verses 4-8 in which the King of Israel received a request that he misinterpreted badly. Naaman was the commander of the military forces of neighboring Aram and he received word that there was a prophet in Israel who could cure him of his leprosy. He went to the King of Israel with a note from the King of Aram requesting healing for Naaman.

Somewhere in the chain of communication there was some confusion because the note from the King of Aram asked that the King of Israel rather than the prophet to cure Naaman. When the King of Israel received this request that he could fill he assumed the worst. He tore his robes in an expression of grief and stated his conviction that this must be part of a plot to start a war.

Well, that wasn't it at all. This was no prelude to war. Naaman just needed some help and he heard that he could find that help in Israel. The King of Israel was very worried about what might happen. He was worried about a threat that did not exist. He thought there was a threat--a very serious threat--but he was wrong.

When Elisha the prophet heard about the King's response to the note, he sent a message to him in which he asked, "Why have you torn your robes?" (2 Kings 5:8, TNIV). Again, the tearing of the robes was an expression of grief and, in this context, it was specifically an expression of the King's worries about what might happen. So, in essence, the prophet asked the King, "What are you so worried about?"

The truth was the King had nothing to worry about.

As we saw on Sunday, this episode points us in the direction of several New Testament teachings that make us aware that the followers of Christ should not be worriers. One of the most significant passages in this regard is this word of Jesus from the Sermon on the Mount: "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own" (Matt. 6:34, TNIV).

Don't worry about tomorrow. Don't worry about what might happen in the future. This is the teaching of Jesus to his followers. He didn't say that we won't have any troubles, for we will have troubles. He didn't say that we won't experience pain in this world, for we will experience pain. But the Lord did indicate that we must not worry about such things. Can we do that? Is it realistic?

Do we believe the Bible?

The King of Israel was worried about what might happen but things weren't nearly as bad as he thought. That's often the way it is with the things we worry about. But the really good news is that, even if things are as bad as we think or even worse, Jesus indicates that we still must not worry.

The thing that really gets me about Jesus' saying that we must not worry about tomorrow is that he was on his way to the cross and he knew it. And the cross was really horrible. Still he said, "Don't worry about tomorrow." In other words, no matter what you face, don't worry about tomorrow. The promise of the resurrection made Jesus that confident.

Do we trust him? Then what are we so worried about?

Dave Stratton is the Pastor of Brunswick Islands Baptist Church in Supply, NC, and he serves as Chair of CBFNC’s Wealth and Poverty Task Force. This article originally appeared on Dave’s blog, David’s Deliberations.