We had the best dog in the world. I know, you think your dog is the best, but our dog taught the course at Doggie U. Star. We got Star when she was seven and her owner died. She immediately took to Marsha. She sensed Marsha’s physical problems. She knew what Marsha could and couldn’t do. When Marsha would take her for her noon walk, she stayed right next to Marsha, always sensing her need and always ready to protect. It really was more like Star was taking Marsha for a walk than the other way around. Every morning at around 5 AM I would take her for the morning walk, and the night walk would be around 9 at night. When she was with me, she was a nut. Smelling every blade of grass, chasing butterflies, laughing at me when I said it was time to go. But for Marsha she was protective and caring. If Marsha had a bad day, Star would meet me at the door when I got home and let me know that Marsha wasn’t doing well. Our Star was a brilliant dog.

         At night Star would come to my side of the bed and lay her head on the mattress while she was still standing on the floor. She was a big dog and she had to bring her head down to lay it on the mattress. I would pet her a little and talk to her a little and then she would lick my hand and turn away and go around to the other side of the bed and lay down on the floor where she could listen for Marsha to make sure she was OK all during the night. Star considered Marsha her primary concern. “I love you, Dad, but Mom needs me.” This was her pattern for eight years until she died. Except…….

         ……for thunder.

         She could hear thunder while it was a long ways off. She would stand and nuzzle Marsha’s hand until she got a reaction from Marsha. Then Star would give her a little whispered ‘woof’ and then she would come around the bed to my side. If I was facing the side of the bed, she would stick her nose in my eye to wake me. If I was facing Marsha, Star would stick her nose on my neck. Either way, I would wake up. A little whine, a little ‘woof’ and the most pathetic pleading eyes you ever saw. “OK, girl. Lay down.” Star would lay down and I would lay so that my hand rested on her shoulder. We would be like that until the thunder passed. She would still be frightened, especially at the big boomers, but she would lay still and quiet as long as I kept my hand on her shoulder. That was her safety.

         Star didn’t know that I couldn’t protect her from the storm. All she knew was that when she was next to me the storm never hurt her. For us, we know that the Lord can protect us from the storm. But when the storm comes, we want to handle it on our own. Sometimes a dog can have more sense than we do! During this time of uncertainty and stress and worry, consider this passage from 1 Kings. Elijah’s life was threatened. He wanted God to intervene. The Lord took him out to the wilderness, and there…..;

1 Kings 19:11-12   And he said, “Go out and stand on the mount before the Lord.” And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind tore the mountains and broke in pieces the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. And after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake a fire, but the  

         The Lord isn’t always in the great and grand display. Most often, the Lord comes to us in a still, small voice. Just like the slight touch of her master’s hand could ease the only fear a great dog like Star had, so also can the slight touch of the Master’s voice ease our fears.

         Are you tense, maybe a little frightened with all that is going on? It is serious and you should be concerned. But for a while, right now, turn off the news of virus and politics and death and desperation. Stand before the Lord and listen for that soft whisper, that slight touch of the Master, that will surely bring you peace and rest.