Our friends Rick, Beth, and Marj took care of Tasha while we traveled in the Midwest. Marj stopped by during the day a couple of times to walk her. She sent me an email, saying “Hope Tasha doesn't wear you out with all her new-found energy. Yesterday she ran - RAN, mind you - for most of our walk. Couldn't believe it. Then she hopped around and wanted to play in the yard when we got back. Rick or Beth must have slipped her some steroids over the weekend.”
Interestingly, Marj sent this email day that Patriot nation learned Rodney Harrison would be suspended for the first four games of the season for taking steroids (HGH).
While Boston boo-ed vociferously when Barry Bonds came to Fenway this summer, the news about Rodney Harrison struck a different chord. We’re disappointed (and somewhat scared) because the Patriots will start the season without their sparkplug safety but none of us are grousing about the steroid use. Why is Rodney is getting a “free pass” on this whole thing, analysts wonder.
Because Rodney Harrison is one of ours. And in a very odd way, he shares this with Tasha.
Marj stopped by during the day to walk her because, if left alone for too long, Tasha will poop on the floor. The beauty of being a writer is that I can walk her during the day and avoid these accidents. When I misfire on timing, she’ll leave a present on her blanket. She can’t help it—she’s simply ancient and needs to get out every few hours.
My friends Rick, Marj, and Beth will pick up her poops off her blanket or the kitchen floor because they love us and love Tasha. Should they—or I—have to pick up poops off someone else’s floor, no doubt the task would be horrendously offensive. For Tasha, it’s just another aspect of care.
Because—like Rodney Harrison—she’s one of ours.
This puts me in mind of Romans 5:7. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die.
With Rodney Harrison or Tasha, we’ll suspend our judgment because they are one of ours. We wouldn’t do this for Barry Bonds or some other dog. We pick and choose whose poop we either ignore (Rodney) or scoop without judgment (Tasha).
God doesn’t discriminate, nor does he wait until we’re either off the juice or pooped out to come in and clean us up. Romans 5:8 says this: But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
Nothing more to say.
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3 comments:
Not only does God clean up our poops, He blesses us with surprises along the way. Random acts of kindness which are little reminders He still loves us.
I can relate to your caregiving of Tasha. I have an autistic daughter and boy, do I ever clean up! Poops, spit, snot, chewed up food ... you name it and I clean it up. She simply can't do it herself.
Still, she loves me and can show affection. It helps. But truly, if it weren't my daughter, I don't know if I could continue to do it day after day, year after year.
Thank God He does.
And thank God you do, Pam. Your daughter is blessed to have you as a mom.
I can so identify with that..My dog Brea is really old too, and prone to mistakes because her poor ol' body ain't what it used to be.
She gets unconditional love from me, and I clean up her messes too.
I'm glad Tasha was still amoung the living when you returned, now you can put a 'to be continued' sign on that hole in the back yard.
How great is our God!
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