Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Do dogs have souls?



My husband, David, recently asked me, “Do you think dogs have souls?” His dog, Ginger, was recently diagnosed with cancer and being 15 ½ years old, all we can do for her is provide her comfort and love. David longs to know that death will not be the end of this relationship with his dog. So I began to ponder his question, “Do you think dogs have souls?”
I only came to know Ginger three years ago when I met David again after 35 + years out of high school. We were married six months ago and Ginger has accepted me as part of their family!  I have never observed a relationship like the two of them have. In fact, sometimes I’m a little envious of the bond they share. Ginger has been the one thing that has stayed by David’s side and loved him unconditionally through all the heartache of divorce and loneliness. I believe that God sent Ginger to David to love him and care for him at a time he needed it, a time when he felt no one else cared. 
Ginger has offered the kind of love that is spoken about in 1 Corinthians 13:4-8. “Love is patient, (despite long hours of being left alone, needing to go to the bathroom but waiting until you get home) love is kind (welcoming all to the house and licking them on the hand). It does not envy (well maybe a little envy of her master’s new found love), it does not boast, it is not proud.  It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.” Her love for her master has never wavered nor failed.
When David leaves, Ginger searches for him continuously until he returns. Ginger sleeps with David and me but when David is gone out of town, Ginger sleeps on the couch by the door waiting for her master to come home. It is said, and I believe, that we search our whole lives for our Master. We search for Him in scripture, in church, in community, and in nature. Like Ginger, may we never lose sight of our Lord and Master and continue to search for Him while we wait patiently for His return.
David and Ginger look at each other with eyes that are full of love and caring for each other. “The eyes really are a window to the soul, according to scientists. Patterns in the iris can give an indication of whether we are warm and trusting or neurotic and impulsive.” Theologians say that animals do not have souls and point out that man was created superior to animals and that animals can’t be equal with him. But I have seen the warmth and trusting in Ginger’s eyes, and if eyes are the windows into the soul, then I have observed a beautiful soul in Ginger.
I found this little story and feel it might help David with his question.
Distraught, an elderly widow whose beloved little dog died after fifteen faithful years went to her pastor.
"Parson," she said, tears streaming down her cheeks, "the vicar said animals have no souls. My darling little dog Fluffy has died. Does that mean I won’t see her again in heaven?"
"Madam," said the old priest, "God, in his great love and wisdom has created heaven to be a place of perfect happiness. I am sure that if you need your little dog to complete your happiness, you will find her there."
So David, I am sure that God will, in his great love and wisdom when the time comes, love and care for Ginger. And some day if you need her to complete your happiness in heaven, Ginger will meet you at the gates.




Thursday, June 20, 2013

Jeanette Harris Eulogue The Sandbox Will Never Be the Same




This week my childhood friend's mother passed away. Never in my wildest dreams did I think Jamey, my childhood friend, would call and ask me to officiate the celebration of life. What an honor to be able to have done this for my childhood friend. I wanted to share what I wrote for this special occasion. 
My mom often said, “When Jeanette walks into the room everything flies back on to the shelves, but when I walk into the room everything jumps off.” Jeanette kept a beautiful home and I always admired how beautiful Jeannette was even when working out in the yard! Joe and Jeanette, from the sound of their names together, to their physical beings, they made a beautiful couple. I smile at the thought that they are now back together. 
When thinking back on my memories of the Harris family, I immediately came to the thought of the sandbox in my back yard. Well it really wasn’t a sandbox because it didn’t have a box. It was more like a pile of sand over half the backyard under the old maple tree. Anyway, the sandbox days are the days that I remember Jeannette and the Harris family the best. The Harris’s lived on the corner of Main and Mill Streets in Hope, Indiana, and they were our neighbors. But really they became like a second family. I don’t remember this story well. But mom reminded me that when chicken pox hit the Harris children they weren’t suppose to be going in and out and with Jeanette and Joe working mom nursed them through chicken pox at our house. It seems that everywhere we went, the Harris children went, too. We formed a bond that has lasted a life time.
Then I remembered that dreadful day when the Harris family moved away from Hope, Indiana, to New Castle and our sandbox would never be the same. Now they tell us that sandboxes strengthen our creative imaginations, our small and large muscle groups, that children learn about volume and capacity, weights and measures, language skills, etc. but what I learned is that life is better in your sandbox when surrounded by your friends. 
Childhood memories follow us all our lives. I guess that is why Jamey asked me to speak today because of those great memories of childhood in Hope, Indiana, where we were loved and nurtured and happy. In our sandbox in Hope, we didn’t have to deal with loss and suffering like we do today. We are not protected from life’s pain but our friends from the sandbox can journey besides us and help to ease the pain.
I told Jamey that I would not be able to speak today without crying. She said that’s ok, I want tears. I find comfort and I hope you will, too, in what Washington Irving said, “There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than 10,000 tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love.” Today tears are ok because we are filled with overwhelming grief for the loss of Jeanette and that our sandbox will never be the same.
I would like to close with a poem by an anonymous author, a mother.

If you need to cry,
cry with your brother or sister
who walks in grief beside you.
And when you need me,
put your arms around anyone
and give to them what you need to give to me.
There are so many who need so much.
I want to leave you something --
something much better than words or sounds.
Look for me in the people I've known
or helped in some special way.
Let me live in your heart
as well as in your mind.
You can love me most
by letting your love reach out to our loved ones,
by embracing them and living in their love.
Love does not die, people do.
So, when all that's left of me is love,
give me away as best you can.


Jeanette and her husband, Joe, had a special song "Welcome To My World".  If you get a chance, go listen to it on You tube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qX7BAfXn85Y

Welcome to my world
Won't you come on in
Miracles I guess
Still happen now and then
Step into my heart
Leave your cares behind
Welcome to my world
Built with you in mind
Knock and the door will open
Seek and you will find
Ask and you'll be given
The key to this world of mine
I'll be waiting here
With my arms unfurled
Waiting just for you
Welcome to my world

Knock and the door will open
Seek and you will find
Ask and you'll be given
The key to this world of mine
I'll be waiting here
With my arms unfurled
Waiting just for you
Welcome to my world
Waiting just for you
Welcome to my world
 

Rest in peace Jeanette.