I recently posted the news about our dear Bishop: we were forced to euthanize him this week. I have cried more in the past couple of days than I have in years. But -- and you're gonna wanna pay attention, 'cause this is God -- as many tears of sorrow as I have shed, many, if not more, tears of immeasurable gratitude have fallen. My God has been preparing me for this for months -- and that's not to say it is easy or will be easy, but He is with me; He is working for my good; He is tempering this terrible moment with grace and mercy.
The past year was rough on Bishop. It seemed one illness or injury after another plagued his body and sidelined our walks. With every passing month, with every white hair that appeared along his jowl, with every day our walk was shortened or made impossible, I was being prepared. God's Spirit whispered, "Time is passing, but I will be with you forever."
When hosting guests in our home, Bishop was always relegated to the basement. Being separated from me left him upset and anxious to get upstairs; but his fear aggression would not allow us to release him among strangers en masse. Finding someone to come sit with Mom occasionally was out as well; he was simply too unpredictable. The desire God placed in me to open our home to guests -- without having to stress anyone out -- and the frustration I felt at not being able to go out with Scott once in awhile was growing.
And my issues with anger? Who knew the responsibility I had with Bishop was so great? God did. I never realized until I was praying this morning. Bishop had been entrusted to us by someone who knew we'd give him a good home. It's crazy, but I never realized how seriously I'd taken that commission. God is showing me my irritation sometimes stemmed from the pressure I'd put on myself to care for the sweet but needy dog who depended on me
Staffordshires are a great breed, and I was all about being a "Staffy Mom." I shared photos and exchanged advice in a Facebook group. Until one day, I didn't. I don't know whether I was blocked or the group taken down, but that was it. In retrospect, I know they would have been supportive, but photo after photo of beautiful Staffies? As Olivia said, "Yeah, that was God saying, 'Ima do somethin' for ya.'"
God even made sure I had time to grieve. I had scheduled a vacation day this week. At the last minute, and for what can only be described as "miraculous" reasons, I requested the better part of the week. Little did I know I was going to need those days to spend Bishop's last day snuggling with him, and the day after, to develop new patterns with Tinkerball. God is in the details.
When I began to know Bishop's overall health was in decline, I asked God to heal him. But I also asked that if He was going to release me from this ministry (as I felt He was doing), that He would make sure Bishop did not linger and did not suffer. We were scheduled to see the veterinarian at 2:30 Wednesday afternoon; by 5:30 that evening, Scott and I were bent over him sobbing and saying "goodbye." That, my friends, is Providence. That, is grace. And as if that wasn't enough, I returned the following day to pick up Bishop's collar, forgotten in the blur that was the last few hours of his life. As I walked in the door, the doctor approached the front desk, collar in hand. As I reached for it, Dr. Kwon held my hands and thanked me. Thanked me? "I would have done the surgery -- that's my job, but it would have been very hard on him. Thank you for not making me do that to him." What better confirmation that God not only looks out for the well-being of one big-hearted little dog, but cares deeply for those who cared for him?
I told you my God was amazing!
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