A Sweet Puppy

Someone posted a picture of a puppy on Facebook this afternoon. It reminded me so much of a puppy we used to have (mostly the position it was in, and where it was lying) that when I saw it, I was hit with a flood of memories. Our puppy's name was Woof, and he was such a good puppy. I'm sure he would have been a great dog as well, but he never had the chance to be more than a puppy.

I was almost nine years old, my sister was seven. We lived in a small apartment in Kansas City, Missouri with our mom and dad. Diana and I shared a bed. One morning we woke up to quite a surprise -- the cutest puppy ever -- right in our bed! We learned later that my dad had gotten him from some college students who thought it was funny to give the puppy beer and watch him stumble around. When Daddy got Woof he could hardly stand up, he was so drunk. By the time we met him the next morning in our bed, Woof was just a happy, sweet puppy who won our hearts instantly.

Shortly after we got Woof we moved to a tiny house in Independence, Missouri. Woof loved having a yard to run around in. We loved having Woof to play with. Then winter came.

One winter day, while my sister and I were in school, my mom let Woof out to go potty. She had hardly looked away for a second when some guys on motorcycles rode by, and one of them grabbed Woof. I don't  think she saw it happen. I think a neighbor told her. We were all distraught. My dad put a lost and found ad in the paper, with a picture of Woof up on my shoulder.

It wasn't too long before a woman called and said someone had dropped a puppy in her yard. She was sure it was our puppy, and she was right. Arrangements were made for my dad to go pick him up the next day. This is where we have the happy ending, right? No. The woman who found Woof in her yard had a dog, and she was worried that it would hurt our puppy. She could have put Woof in a closed room in her house, but instead she chose to leave him outside. By the time Daddy got over there to pick him up, Woof had frozen to death in the snow.

I wasn't sure why I decided to tell Woof's short life-story until I wrote that last line. I have harbored anger and resentment against that woman all these years. I know that I have to forgive her, and now I do.

Woof was a good puppy. He didn't have a long life, but the short life he had with us was a happy one for him and us.

The "What If" Game

How many times have you said it yourself? "What if I had not been there that day? How would my life be different now?" Or, put another way, "If only I hadn't been there that day?" What if this had happened? What if that hadn't happened? The "What If" Game.

I believe we all ask "What if" now and then--it's only natural. I know some people, though, who let the What If Game rule their lives. If I had to determine who created the What If Game, I would not look toward Parker Brothers or Milton Bradley. I believe the What If Game is planted in our minds by Satan. If he can make us question the past, he might be able to manipulate our future.

Don't let the What If Game rule your life. Yes, things might have been different if events had happened differently, but there is nothing you can do about them by worrying now. There are a lot of things in my life that I might change if I could, but since I can't I go forward from where I am now. I know now that if I had followed God's leading, I would not have made the mistakes I made in the past.

I will continue to make mistakes. I'm human, so that is a certainty. I will continue to try to live the way God wants me to though, so hopefully there won't be so many. When I do make mistakes, I will turn them over to God, ask His forgiveness, and try to move on without any "What ifs."

Right now, before you forget, put your "What If" Game in the box, and hide it away on the highest shelf, in the deepest corner of your attic, then get on with your life. :)