Edward Grinnan

Ask now the beasts, and they shall teach thee. . . .
—Job 12:7

I'll never forget the moment I first laid eyes on Millie. Actually all I saw was her wet black nose poking out of a puppy kennel stacked on an airline luggage cart. My wife Julee and I lifted the kennel to the ground and opened the door. After some hesitation our little golden retriever emerged, looking both relieved and overwhelmed at the activity around her. Millie, I thought, you have so much to learn, and I'll teach you.

Well, wouldn't you know it, she's probably taught me as much as I've taught her. A few lessons from Millie:

When you're happy, let the world know. For such a sweet, gentle dog, Millie has a monster bark. But she doesn't bark much except when she's happy. She reminds me that joy is contagious and there's no reason to keep it in.

Hold your tail up. A trainer observed that Millie exhibits confidence by walking with her tail held high. "It makes other dogs feel relaxed around her.” I should hold my head up when I walk down the street.

Play, play, play. Learning to be a city dog is serious business. It takes a lot of concentration and practice. But don't forget to play like crazy whenever the opportunity presents itself.

Be thankful. For every meal, every walk, every nap, every friend. With a nuzzle or a lick, Millie says "Thank you.” I should remember to be grateful in all things too.

Stay in the now! Millie greets each day as if it's the greatest adventure of her life. Her whole body wags at the prospect of a morning walk. For me, staying in the moment is the only way to experience God in my life. He is here now, in the moment, the greatest adventure life holds.

Thank You, God, for Millie and all the ways You use her to teach this old dog new lessons.

—Edward Grinnan

Marion Bond West

I have written unto you, young men, because ye are strong, and the word of God abideth in you. . .
—I John 2:14

For years now, while sitting in church, I’ve imagined that my grown sons would burst through the doors, find me and sit down next to me, one on each side. At long last, they’d have returned to God, and I, along with all those who have prayed for them so steadfastly, would rejoice.

Actually, Jeremy has returned to the very church my husband Gene and I attend. Each Sunday he sits with us, and I rejoice. Still, I long and pray for his twin brother Jon to be on the other side of me. When the local newspaper published a picture of Jon at the butcher shop where he works, I studied it long and hard. My eyes lingered on his large, square-shaped hands. The freckles didn’t show. He wore a shirt I’d given him beneath his apron. Jon’s addictions have taken a tremendous toll, and he rarely communicates with us.

I can’t seem to relinquish my prayer of Jon sitting with us. I’ve placed the newspaper picture of him in my Bible, right by one of his favorite Scriptures: “I am the vine, ye are the branches ” (John 15:5). Jeremy continues to sit by me. And in a way Jon does, too, nestled in God’s Word.

Because nothing is too hard for you, Father, I’m going to continue to see my sons sitting on either side of me at church.

—Marion Bond West

Marion Bond West

God looked over everything he had made; it was so good, so very good!...
—Genesis 1:31 (THE MESSAGE)

When I was a little girl, I loved coloring books more than anything. I’d choose a purple crayon for the leaves of a tree instead of the expected green, and my mother, a first-grade teacher, would smile and pronounce it perfect. “If leaves look purple to you, honey, then that’s the color they are,” she’d assure me. “Don’t worry about what other people say.”

But when I grew up and had my own home, I found myself monitoring the trends portrayed in glossy decorating magazines. Before long I was succumbing to them. Better not paint the family room buttery yellow; hunter green is in this year. And use an antique Hoosier kitchen cabinet for a desk? What would the neighbors think?

Then one day this year when I was out shopping, the craziest notion came to me: Buy a coloring book and a big box of crayons. Before long, I wasn’t just coloring leaves purple; I was coloring outside the lines. And enjoying every minute of it!

As I ignored the rigid rules of Coloring 101, I experienced a wonderful new freedom. Suddenly the world looked full of endless possibilities. When I nailed antique wooden shoe forms to a board to create a one-of-a-kind hat rack, I received compliments galore, a few of them even from the neighbors. Armed with newfound confidence, I retrieved that forgotten Hoosier cabinet from the garage, scooted a ladder-back chair up to its porcelain top and had the most serviceable desk ever. Its little drawers are ideal for housing pens and paper clips.

This year I’m celebrating both my Creator and my God-inspired creativity. . . and coloring outside the lines every step of the way.

Thank You, God, for the wondrous world You created. Help me to be fearless in beautifying my little corner of it.

—Roberta Messner