Dogs, Cars and Hockey Teams

Dogs, Cars and Hockey Teams

The cars are taking turns to pack up and for two weeks I haven’t been able to drive places unless I’ve thought ahead and made a series of plan B’s.  It’s been the most restful, invigorating time.  So much to do, so many places to go, and no way to get there (I’m not walking anywhere along our non-existent side walks, although many are forced to.)

Our pace has slowed down to that of the newly weaned toddler, which is actually quite fast.  It’s a lot slower than it was though, and it’s been a surprising gift. 

Amazing what meals can be made when you have to be creative and not just, quickly, go buy the ingredients you think you need.  Interesting what interactions and conversations come to us when we stay in one place for a moment.

The other day I flicked a picnic blanket out on the lawn under a faultless May sky.  I lay on that blanket and paged through an old, but very inspiring home magazine.  One little boy dug in the sandpit nearby and our two dogs (with endless energy and working-dog blood flowing in their veins) flopped down beside me and sighed with relief.

They say a father is the head of a home and the mother is the heart, and I’ve been wondering if my constant high speed has messed with the atmosphere of rest in our home.  The singing boy, digging sand, contentedly, and the way the dogs behaved like I’d, finally, allowed them to lie down, make me think as much.

We are not machines or conveyor belts.  We might live in an age of efficiency and speed, but we are still humans with great need for, both, work and play, feasting and fasting, effort and deep rest.

And so thank you for no car and it’s flip side blessing of nowhere to go and nothing to do.

I wanted to also tell you that Max, the good looking bull of a dachshund he is, became a father this week.  The scheduled vet appointments did not occur when they were supposed to and so April, the poodle, carried Max’s offspring as a result.  She carried them until one calm night she saw fit to give birth on my sister’s neck.  Sleeping is one of my sister’s superpowers, and she woke only when she realised her hair was wet.  She peered over her shoulder, gingerly, to discover a little face taking first breaths.  When she, eventually, got up to go and wash away the blood and amniotic fluid, the bed behind her was spotless.  I have always loved the blessing Moses pronounced on the tribe of Benjamin: “Let the beloved of the Lord rest secure in him, for he shields him all day long, and the one the Lord loves rests between his shoulders.” (Deuteronomy 33 v 12)   Some people are just like the God who made them in His image.  Even the creatures know to curl up against the back of my ‘safe-place’ sister during vulnerable times.

And then, completely unrelated, (I hope you are not getting dizzy from all this changing of direction), I have been remembering something all week.  When I was very much younger, two men in our community fought over land.  It looked like theft, daylight robbery even, but there are always two sides to a story and truth and lies often melt into a pot of confusion.  What strikes me hard is that each man had a daughter.  They were in the same hockey team – fighting together; scoring into the same goal whilst defending the other.  United.  Watching backs, passing to one another, sharing the ball, enjoying the game.  Cheering every right move and overlooking the mistakes. 

We are not our parents. 

Yes, curses and blessings flow down the ages and seeds still bear fruit hundreds of years later, but when fathers are fighting, let’s be daughters who are on the same team, refusing to let the poison trickle down.  As much as it depends on us, let’s “live at peace with everyone” and “not take revenge.” (Romans 12 v 18)  Children do not pay for the sins of their fathers, unless they continue down the same line in the same manner, apparently.  When the crimes perpetuate, and nobody calls a stop, who knows where the toxic river will run.  Ezekial 18 v 17 & 18 says, “He will not die for his father’s sin, he will surely live.  But his father will die for his own sin, because he practised extortion, robbed his brother and did what was wrong among his people.”

We have come a very long way in this nation.  We are all capable of atrocities, but let’s choose not to commit them.  There is a great game in action and the Referee is out there with eyes to call out every foul and award every goal.  Who knows what wins can be achieved when we play as a team; wild war cries on the sidelines and thundering applause here on earth and in heaven.