"Preach the gospel at all times, if necessary use words." - St. Francis of Assisi

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Biting the Hand that Feeds You

As I moved the needle closer and closer my heart raced faster and faster. The unsuspecting patient had no idea that he was about to have a hypodermic syringe plunged into his neck in just a couple of seconds. He also had no clue that I had never done this before, but probably would never know that until the deed was done. My steady hand moved slowly to gather up a fold of skin in which to plunge the needle; deliberately and determinedly taking hold when all of a sudden the patient bounded up in a state of pure rage and grasped my hand with his teeth with all the fury which a fifteen pound terrier can muster.

Yes, I was attempting to give Murphy his first insulin shot. He was diagnosed several days ago and my lucky lot in life is to inject his neck with the insulin once a day. However, in the split second it took to bribe him to my lap with a treat, he turned from my always mild-mannered and loveable pet to the wild beast of the field that his ancestors were. As his head turned (much like Linda Blair in “The Exorcist”) to engage my hand with his teeth, my survival mode kicked in to push him away with one hand, throw the needle across the room with the other hand and run shrieking like a schoolgirl as he gave chase. When the scene finally came to a calmer moment and I could come down from the top of my piano, I began to tell Murphy, “This is just supposed to help you! Why are you biting me? You have a disease and we need to do this in order to make you feel better, you ungrateful little dog! Why can’t you understand that?”

Murphy has this way that he will cock his head to the side when I am on one of my tirades which makes it appear he is really listening, but then he will snort and turn around and trot off which lets me know how much he really cares. The same thing happened now. Head cocked, listen, snort and trot. I was beginning to feel some remorse and followed him with another treat, when he suddenly turned around and let out another primal snarl of warning to keep my distance……leave the treat on the floor, but keep my distance. I obeyed.

So far, we have not come to an understanding about his method of treatment. Even though I know he needs this injection in order to have a more quality life, Murphy simply will not allow it. His English pea sized brain just can’t comprehend this. He just knows that I am doing something which hurts him and he instinctively bites back.

Do we not do the same thing when God tries to keep us from harm? Do we not (figuratively) bite back when God tries to guide us in a way that we really don’t think we want to go? All we know is that our “What I Want” world is being changed and the results seem rather painful and uncomfortable. And, to be honest, at first they are not always so pleasurable, however, if we have the faith in God which we should we know that following His plan of care will give us a better quality of life.

We pray “O Father, please show us which path you want for us to go”, but when He does, and we don’t really like the route, we rebel. We pray “God, please help me to be a stronger witness for you”, but when He attempts to teach us strength through obstacles and personalities, we run whimpering back to our safe little world.

Even though he is a very intelligent dog, Murphy does not have the reasoning ability that humans do. He only knows that I feed him, play with him and will always take care of him. That belief was threatened, so he responded with his inbred canine nature. We have the ability to know that God loves and cares for us and would never put us in a position which we could not handle (depending on His strength and help), yet we respond all too often with our human nature of self desires.

Someday, hopefully, Murphy will trust me enough to give him the medicine he needs to bring him back to good health and a right relationship with his own body. He cannot stay at this point for long or his health will deteriorate and he will die. If we do not allow God to inject us with stronger faith and life experiences, we will grow stagnant and become less useful disciples. Trust the Hand that Feeds you!

And for today my friends, this is the gospel according to Jimmy.

Be God’s!

2 Comments:

At 10:28 AM, Blogger Jimmy said...

Thanks for stopping by, silverbubble. I'll drop in a visit your site later today!
Jimmy

 
At 5:03 PM, Blogger Jan Price said...

Jimmy,

If it helps any, I am empathetic. My Merci is so terrified of her own shadow, the first time I tried to clip her nails, she went into shock for about half a heartbeat. Then she turned into a screeching lunatic. I tried once more and have never had the courage again.

If she needed an insulin shot, she'd probably be up there hiding out with Murphy and I'd be bleeding all over the carpet I don't have.

But if God decided one of us needed an insulin shot, he wouldn't allow us to intimidate him into backing down, even though we do tend to "bite." He would do what was best for everyone.

And I know that somehow you'll find a way to do what's best for Murphy. Perhaps your good friend Joe would volunteer to hold Murphy's head. That way Murphy would get his shot and you could already have the car running to drive Joe to the ER.

 

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