My floor is finished. I am thrilled to have my house back to myself after three weeks of sharing it with the installer. He was a nice guy. My dogs loved him. He brought them stale doughnuts every morning.
The morning after he finished I stepped outside to an empty carport and
the sound of silence where there should have been the click of claws and pad of paws on concrete, rushing to greet me. I started up the drive and there they were—sitting next to the gate, gazing down the road, obviously pining for the man and his doughnuts.
I called them back. Chloe came more or less eagerly, but Magdi stopped every ten feet or so and looked over her shoulder toward the gate. I had to call and clap my hands every so often to keep her coming my way.
This has happened for several mornings now. I may pet her, and do it often, but I don’t give her doughnuts. She has sold her soul to a new master just for a doughnut!
What do we sell ours for? We may even think we have not. Magdi still lives on our property. She still comes when we call. She still allows us to medicate and feed her the healthy stuff, but all the time she is looking over her shoulder toward the gate, yearning for a doughnut.
Are we still showing up at the right places, saying the right things, even acting the right way most of the time, but secretly looking over our shoulders, longing for something else? We needn’t even bother trying. No man having put his hand to the plow and looking back is fit for the kingdom of God; remember Lot’s wife, Luke 9:62; 17:32.
I cannot explain to the dogs that if they lived on a steady diet of doughnuts they would actually die of malnutrition, not to mention the woes that come with obesity. They just know that a nice man gave them something that tasted
good.
We should be smarter than a couple of dogs. We should have the sense to know that the things we sell our souls for are not worth the end result—not wealth, not power, not social acceptance, not a physical high that only lasts a moment, not the satisfaction that comes with vengeance or simply putting someone in his place.
Whatever it is we are selling ourselves for, however smart it may appear
to the world, however good it may feel, it might as well be doughnuts.
Then Jesus said to his disciples, If any will come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever will save his life shall lose it, and whoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it. For what is a man profited if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?
Matt 16:24-26.
Dene Ward
The morning after he finished I stepped outside to an empty carport and
the sound of silence where there should have been the click of claws and pad of paws on concrete, rushing to greet me. I started up the drive and there they were—sitting next to the gate, gazing down the road, obviously pining for the man and his doughnuts.
I called them back. Chloe came more or less eagerly, but Magdi stopped every ten feet or so and looked over her shoulder toward the gate. I had to call and clap my hands every so often to keep her coming my way.
This has happened for several mornings now. I may pet her, and do it often, but I don’t give her doughnuts. She has sold her soul to a new master just for a doughnut!
What do we sell ours for? We may even think we have not. Magdi still lives on our property. She still comes when we call. She still allows us to medicate and feed her the healthy stuff, but all the time she is looking over her shoulder toward the gate, yearning for a doughnut.
Are we still showing up at the right places, saying the right things, even acting the right way most of the time, but secretly looking over our shoulders, longing for something else? We needn’t even bother trying. No man having put his hand to the plow and looking back is fit for the kingdom of God; remember Lot’s wife, Luke 9:62; 17:32.
I cannot explain to the dogs that if they lived on a steady diet of doughnuts they would actually die of malnutrition, not to mention the woes that come with obesity. They just know that a nice man gave them something that tasted
good.
We should be smarter than a couple of dogs. We should have the sense to know that the things we sell our souls for are not worth the end result—not wealth, not power, not social acceptance, not a physical high that only lasts a moment, not the satisfaction that comes with vengeance or simply putting someone in his place.
Whatever it is we are selling ourselves for, however smart it may appear
to the world, however good it may feel, it might as well be doughnuts.
Then Jesus said to his disciples, If any will come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever will save his life shall lose it, and whoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it. For what is a man profited if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?
Matt 16:24-26.
Dene Ward
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