What if Dogs Could Think?

As I was driving on my way to work this morning, I was saying my morning prayers as my usual custom when driving to work early in the morning. It was then that I approached a red traffic light. As I pulled up, there was a pick-up truck on my left side with a dog sitting in the passenger seat with his head out the window. After an initial chuckle at the sight, I began to stare at the dog. He rested his head on the door (since the window was lowered all the way down), as if in a state of contemplation. Even the look on his face indicated that he was deep in thought. Now I know that scientists have found evidence that dogs do not think. However, after watching this dog for what seemed like hours, there was no doubt in my mind that he had something on his mind. I couldn't take a picture quick enough, so this photo is not of that dog I witnessed.

If I were to put my human spin on the thought pattern of this particular canine, it looked like he was thinking about how wonderful it was to be able to go for a car ride with his owner in the early morning hours. He was probably thinking of how much he is loved and cared for by his owner, being rewarded with the opportunity to feel the wind blowing through his hair. How wonderful it was to smell the scent of Spring in the air while being able to people-watch at the same time. He was probably thinking that he had nowhere in particular that he had to be today, but lucky to have it that way. He was probably thinking what a beautiful day it was, with all of the birds singing, the sun shining, and the flowers blooming. And even though he couldn't see the colors, just the thought of eventually having the green grass touch his paws as he ran through the yard probably sent chills up and down his doggie spine.

Yes, if this dog could think - by the look on his face - I think that he was deep in contemplation of how blessed he was to have been created by God, and blessed to be alive this very day. As the light turned green and the pick-up truck began to pull away, the dog pulled his head back inside the cab. And I was left to contemplate on how fortunate I was to be God's child, and lucky enough to witness another miracle - the start of a new day with Christ in my heart. May we all have these doggie insights as we wind down to the end of our Lenten journey.

Sometimes, Change is Good

A little more than a week ago, I was leaving the place where I work out in the morning. Nothing out of the ordinary there. Well, as I proceeded into the intersection, another driver decided to turn left while I had the go-ahead green light. I couldn't stop in time, and ended up colliding with the other driver. Luckily, neither of us was hurt. But that's more than I can say for my vehicle.

We found out last week that it would cost more to fix the car than it was worth. In other words, it was time to go car shopping. Now, this is a task that I really do not enjoy doing. The research part is not the problem, but the going to car dealers is what I dread the most.

I do have to admit that at least for this time around, we ended up having some pretty decent salesmen. Some the overall experience was not all that bad.

After seeing the remnants of our vehicle after the collision, I immediately began thinking of how this so perfectly ties into my Lenten journey. How often do we get another chance to start over? How many opportunities do we get to take a hard look at our life, and to see how our lives have become mangled, twisted, crushed, and destroyed because of some of the poor choices that we have made? How can we take advantage of seeing with opened eyes, and deciding right here and now, to change the way we live? Each of us needs to do the research of how we are living, and to find a new way to live according the word of God. Each of us needs to become a new existence, putting our old habits behind us and setting our sights on what is to come.

There is still plenty of time within Lent to make a change. I challenge you to start over (if you have encountered a minor Lenten set-back), and to make a commitment to God. Live these remaining days of Lent with a sense of purpose - to change your life for the better - to fix what may be broken, and to heal the wounds that are hurting. It won't be easy, but the end result is well worth the effort!

Christ in Us

This reflection comes from Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis:

A live body is not one that never gets hurt, but one that can to some extent repair itself. In the same way a Christian is not a man who never goes wrong, but a man who is enabled to repent and pick himself up and begin over again after each stumble - because the Christ-life is inside him, repairing him all the time, enabling him to repeat (in some degree) the kind of voluntary death which Christ himself carried out.

That is why the Christian is in a different position from other people who are trying to be good. They hope, by being good, to please God if there is one; or - if they think there is not - at least they hope to deserve approval from good men. But the Christian thinks any good he does comes from the Christ-life inside him. He does not think God will love us because we are good, but that God will make us good because he loves us.

It Happened at the WC

I just returned from a business trip to Spain, supporting Mobile World Congress.  After not having a chance to blog for more than one week, I am happy to be back!

One of the most interesting things that happened to me while working the trade show was meeting a woman who worked cleaning the public bathrooms. (If you are looking for a public restroom, you need to look for signs that say WC.) Now, I'm not sure this is common practice in Spain, but this woman was present in the restroom at all times. It  didn't matter if men were in there - doing what men do. She was always there.

I started thinking about how she has to work under these conditions. Day after day, cleaning a room that is always full of men, and dare I say; not the best aromatic environment. The things that this woman has to do in order to support her family. This dirty job that someone has to do in order to have a bathroom that is clean and useable. To do this kind of manual labor, and to be able to go home to her family feeling the satisfaction of doing her best with the talents that she was given.

And that got me thinking about the work that you and I do. While we may not clean public restrooms, we all do some kind of manual labor. How do we approach that work? Do we see it as a way of glorifying God? Do we understand that God has given each of us certain talents and abilities to serve him and others? Do we accept those talents and use them to our best ability? Or do we whine and complain about those tasks that seem mundane and lifeless?

What I learned from the "restroom lady" is that we should not complain about the jobs that we have to do. Rather, we need to be thankful for the talents and skills that we have, and to praise and thank the Lord for these and all the things that we are given. We need to be proud of what we do, and to do our work to the best of our ability for the glory of God.

This Lent, may we continue to be made aware of our talents, and to use those talents for the good of others.