Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Zach & I have always assumed that a dog would eventually be a part of our family. We spent some time searching for the perfect puppy last year, only to decide that we were too near our honeymoon to bring a dog in, move it out for a week to a kennel, and then bring it back in. So we decided to wait until we got home from Vegas. We got home from Vegas pregnant. Then we decided that I would probably be too exhausted while chasing three kids and in school to bother with training a puppy (and we were right. I was too exhausted). So we chose to hold off until Codie was no longer a newborn and our family was a little more settled. That time is now.

Call it an act of God (but it would really ruin the end of this story if you did), my sister found a stray dog Sunday night. He fits the description of last year's search for the Perfect Dog to a T. Short hair, non-shedding, Yorkie (with a bit of Schnauzer), over a year old, out of the chewing stage, previously owned and potty trained, great with kids, etc. It's such a perfect fit it hurts.

Here's why it really hurts - someone else in my family (namely, a precious 3-year-old) has also fallen in love with Perfect Dog (who, to protect her identity, shall be referred to as "Rhubarb" from here forward - the dog, not the child).
I spent a good amount of time last night and this morning mentally pitching the perfect argument as to why we've been wanting this dog before we even knew it was available, and why we deserve it more, etc. etc. It felt as though the Rhubarb of our dreams stumbled right into our lives, yet was being stolen from under our noses.
And then I changed my mind.
Knowing that I'd rather lose adding to Rhubarb to our family than lose a relationship with an existing member, God ordered me to let it go.

Amazing thing happens when you change your mind.
In my mind, Rhubarb went from being "stolen from under our noses" to a precious gift for a precious 3-year-old (who really does have too rampant of an imagination to NOT have a Rhubarb yet). Having something beloved stolen from you is painful, but giving something beloved to someone beloved is joyous.
Change your mind.

At house church a few weeks ago, we talked about repenting. A basic definition of repent is to change your mind.

I'm just now understanding what Sister Hazel meant in their great 90s song:
"If you want to be somebody else, change your mind."
Me of last night is a different somebody than the me of today.

Repent, change your mind, be somebody else - somebody willingly transformed in Christ.