I sat in the family room at a friend’s house, talking and laughing with several other women. We had prayed fervently that morning. In the process, we’d experienced an invigorating, almost electrifying sense of God’s presence.
Our prayer meeting now adjourned, my friend Tina opened the back door. In ran her black lab puppy, Scamp. Scamp ricocheted around the room, his tongue out, his whole body wagging. “Give us some of your energy, Scamp!” I cried. “Give us some of your energy!”
Sitting on a low couch, I leaned forward to reach for my purse. In that instant, Scamp ricocheted from the far side of the coffee table. His hind feet at my feet, his front feet on my knees, he lunged joyfully – and licked me right on the mouth.
“Scamp!” Tina cried.
Scamp bounded away as suddenly as he had bounded up. “Maybe he was trying to give me some of his energy,” I said.
To my knowledge, I’ve never before kissed a dog. But I did dance with one once.
Three years ago, I sat in the family room at a friend’s house. Pam and I had just attended a conference. It wasn’t your normal sit-and-take-notes conference. We’d experienced an invigorating, almost electrifying sense of God’s presence.
Describing the experience to Pam’s husband Carey, Pam and I weren’t as animated as Scamp – but almost. As we talked, Pam popped a CD into the stereo system. The song, “Days of Elijah,” by Robin Mark, began to play.
“These are the days of Elijah,
Declaring the word of the Lord . . .”
Suddenly, something remarkable happened – something that hasn’t happened in any visit to Pam’s house before or since. Spontaneously, the three of us stood up and started dancing. Within a few measures, Carey and Pam were dancing together. I danced solo.
Delighted by the music and the movement, Pam’s mixed-breed setter Toby bounded over. Large, red and long-haired, Toby doesn’t look a thing like Scamp, yet in his puppyhood Toby had that same boundless energy and whole-dog wag. Determined not to miss out on the action, Toby bounced around barking.
Then, unexpectedly, he reared up on his back legs, put his front paws on my shoulders – and danced with me.
“Georgie Porgie, Puddin' and Pie, Kissed the girls and made them cry,” says the classic nursery rhyme.
Laughing at Scamp, recalling Toby, I thought: If anyone writes a nursery rhyme about me, it may include the line, “Kissed the dogs and made them dance.”
Yet I’m convinced the catalyst in both instances went beyond the combination of a hyperactive dog, a family room and me. The people gathered in both places felt profoundly, divinely energized before the puppies erupted into action. Scamp and Toby entered an already charged atmosphere. Uninhibited, they expressed what we already felt.
How delightful to discover that The Message Bible speaks about such energy.
It announces from God: “The sun of righteousness will dawn on those who honor my name, healing radiating from its wings. You will be bursting with energy, like colts [or puppies?] frisky and frolicking” (Mal. 4:2).
It exclaims: “Oh, the utter extravagance of his work in us who trust him — endless energy, boundless strength! All this energy issues from Christ” (Eph. 1:19-20).
It urges: “Be energetic in your life of salvation, reverent and sensitive before God. That energy is God's energy, an energy deep within you, God himself willing and working at what will give him the most pleasure” (Phil 2:12-13).
Oh, yes! Give us your endless energy, God! Free us to express it!
Our prayer meeting now adjourned, my friend Tina opened the back door. In ran her black lab puppy, Scamp. Scamp ricocheted around the room, his tongue out, his whole body wagging. “Give us some of your energy, Scamp!” I cried. “Give us some of your energy!”
Sitting on a low couch, I leaned forward to reach for my purse. In that instant, Scamp ricocheted from the far side of the coffee table. His hind feet at my feet, his front feet on my knees, he lunged joyfully – and licked me right on the mouth.
“Scamp!” Tina cried.
Scamp bounded away as suddenly as he had bounded up. “Maybe he was trying to give me some of his energy,” I said.
To my knowledge, I’ve never before kissed a dog. But I did dance with one once.
Three years ago, I sat in the family room at a friend’s house. Pam and I had just attended a conference. It wasn’t your normal sit-and-take-notes conference. We’d experienced an invigorating, almost electrifying sense of God’s presence.
Describing the experience to Pam’s husband Carey, Pam and I weren’t as animated as Scamp – but almost. As we talked, Pam popped a CD into the stereo system. The song, “Days of Elijah,” by Robin Mark, began to play.
“These are the days of Elijah,
Declaring the word of the Lord . . .”
Suddenly, something remarkable happened – something that hasn’t happened in any visit to Pam’s house before or since. Spontaneously, the three of us stood up and started dancing. Within a few measures, Carey and Pam were dancing together. I danced solo.
Delighted by the music and the movement, Pam’s mixed-breed setter Toby bounded over. Large, red and long-haired, Toby doesn’t look a thing like Scamp, yet in his puppyhood Toby had that same boundless energy and whole-dog wag. Determined not to miss out on the action, Toby bounced around barking.
Then, unexpectedly, he reared up on his back legs, put his front paws on my shoulders – and danced with me.
“Georgie Porgie, Puddin' and Pie, Kissed the girls and made them cry,” says the classic nursery rhyme.
Laughing at Scamp, recalling Toby, I thought: If anyone writes a nursery rhyme about me, it may include the line, “Kissed the dogs and made them dance.”
Yet I’m convinced the catalyst in both instances went beyond the combination of a hyperactive dog, a family room and me. The people gathered in both places felt profoundly, divinely energized before the puppies erupted into action. Scamp and Toby entered an already charged atmosphere. Uninhibited, they expressed what we already felt.
How delightful to discover that The Message Bible speaks about such energy.
It announces from God: “The sun of righteousness will dawn on those who honor my name, healing radiating from its wings. You will be bursting with energy, like colts [or puppies?] frisky and frolicking” (Mal. 4:2).
It exclaims: “Oh, the utter extravagance of his work in us who trust him — endless energy, boundless strength! All this energy issues from Christ” (Eph. 1:19-20).
It urges: “Be energetic in your life of salvation, reverent and sensitive before God. That energy is God's energy, an energy deep within you, God himself willing and working at what will give him the most pleasure” (Phil 2:12-13).
Oh, yes! Give us your endless energy, God! Free us to express it!
. . . . . . .
“Days of Elijah,” by Robin Mark. Copyright © 1997 Daybreak Music Ltd. See lyrics at http://www.robinmark.com/Lyrics/daysofelijah.htm
Lyrics and info about “Georgie Peorgie” nursery rhyme at Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Georgie_Porgie.
All Scriptures quoted from THE MESSAGE: The Bible in Contemporary Language © 2002 by Eugene H. Peterson. All rights reserved.
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