Moments matter....

One year ago, my beloved dog was dying.  He was no longer eating, he had lost his interest in life, my other dog was obviously detaching from him, and he was rapidly losing his ability to function.  Even walking up or down the stairs was beyond him, and I had to carry him out to the lawn to do his business.  He was in end stage renal failure, and despite my hardest efforts, I couldn't hide from the signs any longer.  It was clearly just a matter of days before he would be gone.  I made the very difficult decision to end his life, because it was obvious he was no longer enjoying his life, he appeared to be in some pain, and his eyes told me he knew it was his time and he was ready.

But I wanted just one more weekend, one last period of time to adjust to the idea of losing him, one last opportunity to hug him and hold him and cry with him and say goodbye.  However, I feared he wouldn't make it comfortably through the weekend, so decided to give him a last ditch, simple medical treatment to try and improve his quality of life temporarily.  There was no thought of extending his life, I knew that was not possible.  I simply hoped to improve what little time was left so that he would not suffer while I came to grips with it all.

But there was an unexpected result.  It was unbelievable, in fact.  It was a simple treatment, but it completely revived him.  Slowly, over a period of several days, the dog that could not even walk started walking, then jogging, then running, and finally jumping again, much like his old self.  It was a miracle.

The day I had picked to be his last day came and went, and he was still getting better.  We went several weeks, in fact, before he started to go downhill again.  So we tried the treatment again, and it had the same effect.  So I learned to do it at home, and a year later, he is still here, alive and doing okay with occasional treatments.  He is not the dog he used to be, but he is also 14 years old, and the years have naturally taken a toll on him.

For months, I would get his medicine a week at a time, and even though he was doing well, I couldn't really appreciate the time I had, because I was spending all my time worrying about what was going to inevitably happen in the end.  I knew it wouldn't be long, he would go downhill in days or weeks, and I would lose him.  I couldn't enjoy the moment because I was so upset about the impending loss.

But slowly, over the months, I realized that I was missing out on the here and now over the fear of what would come at some point in the future, which had not yet even been determined.  By focusing on what was still to come, I was no longer enjoying what I had in the present, and unable to appreciate the gift of time I had been given.

Now, a year later, he is still with me.  I am grateful that I didn't spend this precious time worrying over what will come, because the hours and days and months have been extra special, knowing that they are limited.

In Matthew 6:34, we are told,

"Therefore do no worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself."

Those words are meaningful to me, and I have embraced them in the last few months.  Gizmo's battle with kidney failure, painful as it has been for me to watch, has taught me that although I cannot change what will happen in the future, I can enjoy what I have for today.  The future is unpredictable.  Wasting time worrying about something that is not actually happening is a foolish waste of emotional energy.

I have always been a worrier, and I have spent a lot of my life worrying about things which never came to pass.  I cannot change the bad things that will happen sooner or later.  I cannot stop the march of time.  But worry has never increased my joy or enhanced the quality of the life I have been given.  By giving up the worry to God, I can enjoy everything in real time, and I can appreciate the gifts that God has granted me here and now.

Today I am grateful for facing up to the illness in my beloved pet.  It has taught me the uselessness of worry, and the importance of enjoying what God has given me in the moment.  Each day is a gift, and I am more appreciative today because of the lesson of Gizmo.