Thursday, September 1, 2016

It's a Dog Hair World

It's been a while.
I think about writing a lot. I just don't really ever sit down to do it.

Because writing means processing. It means taking time. It means being focused.

And lately I just feel like I'm all over.
Maybe I'm avoiding.
Maybe I'm busy.
Maybe I'm tired.
Maybe I've just run out of things to say.
Maybe I have what some might call 'writers block'.

So instead I sit and stare. Fumbling back and forth between watching the gentle giants play and seeing what new recipe my newsfeed is going to show me that I'll salivate over, but never actually make.  Meanwhile, the "Blogger" tab stays open, waiting patiently for the words to come.

Maybe today I'll have something to write.
Maybe today I'll stop working, thinking, trying to please, trying to win, trying to do all the things right... maybe today I'll stop being lazy.

And as I watch my gentle giants, I watch the giant tufts of hair floating around them. How did I become one of these people? Our house is often filled with dust and hair (crimpy short whites and long wavy browns/blondes). Because we're a hairy house. And our dogs live outside most of the day in red dirt. Basically we're disgusting. I remember going over to dog owners' houses and being grossed out by various things about dog ownership. And now I'm one of them. A disgusting dog owner with dog hair all over my fleeces and slobber stains all over my pants. And, the more disgusting part of all? I don't even hate it.

However, this time of year is particularly gross. Gross because Great Pyrenees "blow" their coats as they shed their summer undercoats and grow a new, thicker one to prepare for winter. I brushed Zeus the other day and it looked like snow was covering our porch. It got even worse after we gave him a bath. Would you believe when I read online about coat blowing that a warm bath actually triggers more shedding? Better believe that our road trip to my in-laws house had us in a blizzard of white dog hair any time one of them moved. We were coughing, choking, and barely able to keep our eyes on the road. I tried eating watermelon but was unable to escape the white crimpies that quickly attached themselves to the succulent fruit.

And then today, when the thunder rolled, dear Zeus was up in arms. I went outside, in the Texas humidity, to be a kind mom and help rid his anxiety... and my gentle touch caused his hair to literally fall out. So I thought, I'll brush him. I"ll brush it all out and he'll have nothing left to shed. And so I brushed him. And I brushed him. And I brushed him. It was never-ending. The hair piled up around us. I grabbed what I could as it floated through the air, but I'm sure the neighbors at my in-laws are wondering why white hair is now in their food.

Would you believe that alllll that dog hair made me think about sin? They're actually quite similar. Because sin comes off of us, whether we want it to or not (especially when it's what's inside of us). And oftentimes, when we go to purge ourselves of sin, we find ourselves overwhelmed with the amount of it that's there. Sometimes there's so much that we don't know what to do with it and we're choking on its very existence. How was there this much and I didn't even know it? And sometimes it takes someone else pulling it out of us for us to realize how much is actually there. And, just like the dogs, us humans oftentimes aren't even aware of it.

I collected a pile of dog hair today that ended up being the size of another small dog. And now I'm thinking about sin. I'm thinking about if there's sin in my life that I'm neglecting and it's causing me to schluff off more sin into the space of everyone around me that I'm oblivious to. It's making me wonder what I need to do to dig in, grab the brush, and start grooming through the weeds that I've been avoiding for too long. It's making me wonder what I'll find, how much I'll have to dig, and what to do with it when it all comes out. And what if it just keeps coming and coming and coming?

Because my heart is still dark.
But there's nothing secret that will remain hidden.

So maybe it's time to join my pups.
To stop avoiding.
To stop being too busy or too tired or too scared.
To get out the comb. And to brush, and brush, and brush. And allow the Lord to bring His refinement into a life that's been avoiding it for too long. And to trust that His intentions for me are good. That He is constantly bringing me into something better, preparing me for what's next, allowing me to be a greater reflection of Him, a greater image of who I was created to be.

I don't entirely know what that looks like, but this is what happens sometimes when you just starting writing again (and you have two giant fluffs).

Take it or leave it.

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