By Chance

“Stop me not, but let me jog, for I am Chance, a firefighting dog.'' ~ Chance

For the first years of his life, the nameless cocker pup was chained from dawn to dark in mud, feces, storms, and flies; all alone and mostly frightened.  When Nigel, his owner, got home, he was allowed inside to conditions ever worse; locked in a crate, in the garage, unable to stand.

One day he managed a bold escape, wandering narrow alleyways and scaling the limits of his imagination.  His roving took him near a fire house where he promptly laid down to rest on the dry pavement, oblivious to the dirt that clogged his matted fur.

Erin, a rookie firewoman, crouched down next to him and offered her hand.  Instead of sniffing her, he just tucked his head between his paws in the most submissive gesture possible.  The pooch was so thin it was like dragging her fingers over a xylophone.

Erin noted his collar and returned him to Nigel.  But mindful of the most attention he’d ever felt, the dog quickly escaped and returned to the firehouse … at every opportunity.

Nigel soon abandoned the struggle and allowed the dog to follow his own path.  So Erin welcomed its first 4-legged firefighter and named him Chance; meaning unintended, yet important.

At first, they left him at the firehouse when duty called.  Chance danced with excitement when they returned to the station, always deliriously happy to greet them.

Eventually, he was allowed to ride with the crew in the firetruck until they’d release him near the fire, running in advance, and announcing by his bark the welcome news that help was on its way.  He even had his own boots.

At the fire, he’d amuse himself by pulling burning sticks away from the flames with his mouth; impressed that he was rendering a great service and clearly anxious to show any onlookers his significance.  He even rescued several people and a variety of terrified pets.

Chance remained faithful to the profession he’d so deliberately chosen despite frequent injuries.  Having suffered a more serious burn than usual, Erin nursed him beside the firehouse hearth, when a "call" came.  At the familiar sound of the engine turning out, the old dog made a last effort to climb aboard, but couldn’t gather the energy.

He passed away while the fire crew was away.

Chance was eulogized as a “faithful companion, a fierce guardian, and a symbol of the resiliency, bravery, and fortitude of firefighters and those they help.”

If only we loved like dogs do.

They don’t care if you got fired, dumped, or made a bad fashion choice that day.  All they want is you!  They’re the only living example of unconditional love and the ultimate reason why God made dogs.

“Master, treat me kindly, for no heart is more grateful than mine.  Hold me gently in your arms, knowing that until the last breath I take, I’ll walk by your side, and stand ready and willing to protect you with my life.”  ~ “A Dog’s Prayer”

Prison Break

“Never grow tired of doing good; at the right time you’ll reap a harvest." ~ Galatians 6:9

Prisoner #846239 opened his Bible, something he did every morning before chow.  It was the same Bible that sat on his shelf at home for years collecting dust.  It’s like God and jail were somehow connected.  He browsed through several passages, not to seek God but to try and find the answer to why he’s behind these walls again.  Galatians 6:9 seemed to jump from the page.

He’d already served half of his 26 month sentence for a series of petty crimes.  But he wasn’t sure he’d make it.  Good behavior got #846239 into the prison work detail outside the prison walls 7 hours a day, 5 days a week.  But Georgia heat in the summer was like the breath of hell.

Today he and 5 other trustees were cutting grass at a local cemetery: 86^oF and 100% humidity.  Even sweating offered little help in the muggy heat.  It trickled down his neck and back like warm soup.  The ground surrendered a disorientating haze; the grass stood still as if it were too hot to move.  Even the birds were silent.

Maybe he’d just walk away today; disappear into the shadows of homelessness and never reappear in public.  He looked over at the guard to assess the opportunity.

Something was wrong.  The guard was clutching his chest.  His lungs seemed to be searching the air for relief.  His breaths shortened, wheezing with each successive gasp.  Then he collapsed onto the ground, dry grass sticking to his face.

His initial thought – this must be a sign; the perfect chance to escape.  First grab the fallen officer's pistol.  Then steal the prison van and cross the state line before anyone noticed.

His second thought – Galatians 6:9 ... “always do good.”

He sprung to action.  Instead of taking advantage of the situation, he helped the unconscious guard.   Inmate #846239 quickly opened his bulletproof vest and immediately began chest compressions.  Instead of reaching for his gun, another inmate took the guard’s cell phone and called for paramedics.

The guard was rushed to the hospital, and though he doesn’t recall much of what happened, the inmates were the real heroes.  “A man’s life meant more to them than any selfish thoughts of freedom,” he said later.

For doing the right thing, the officer’s family treated all six of them to a pizza lunch in the park.  But more importantly, each one of their sentences was commuted to time served!  Tyler Hayes, former inmate 846239, was now a free man.

When we express our appreciation of God it enhances our enjoyment of him.  God heard Tyler’s prayer and provided an opportunity.  It was one of many ‘good’ decisions Tyler would make for the rest of his life praising his Savior.

“Lord, thank You for giving me another day, another chance to become a better person, another chance to give and experience love, another opportunity to do it right.” ~ T. Hayes #846239

Zero to Hero

“The body is not made up of one part but of many." ~ 1 Corinthians 12:14

He showed up for practice with a new glove and cleats right from the box.  Translation: Matt (11) had never played Little League, or any other baseball before.  He clearly wasn't the teammate the other boys were hoping for.

Matt was painfully shy and appeared more fragile than rice paper.  Bright, eager and verbose were not necessarily athletic qualities.  While other kids on his team were chasing fly balls or taking batting practice, Matt seemed content drawing elaborate patterns in the dirt or reading the rule book.  His teammates took notice and eventually gave up on Matt as a player.

Excelling at sports can result in a windfall; creating a cycle of self-confidence that provides a life-long advantage.  But Matt knew he was a liability to the team.   Midway through the season he’d yet to get a base hit (0 for 23)’ or catch a routine fly ball.    He kinda liked baseball; he was just scared to death of playing it.

Then something occurred that changed the game.

Matt arrived early for their contest with the Titans … in an above-the-elbow cast.  A bicycle accident had ended his season.  He looked up into his coach's face and, with relief in his eyes, offered to quit the team.

Coach pitied the boy.  But he had different suggestion.

He pulled the boy aside and said, "I don’t want you to quit.  Will you try something new today?”

The frail boy nodded, “I’ll try.”

“I want you to coach third base.  You’d be sorta the ‘captain’ of any runners on base after they round second base.  “I’ve watched you Matt,” he continued.  “You understand this game better than anybody on the team.  We need you!”

“I’ll try Coach,” he repeated in a small voice.

With the game tied and two outs in the bottom of the final inning, Matt remained deadly focused from his position in the 3^rd base coach’s box.  A weak base hit to right field advanced Jorge toward third base.  The safe play would have been to hold him at third.

Matt gambled Jorge’s speed versus the right fielder’s arm.  He motioned Jorge to round third and dig for home.  It was so close a play that many would have questioned Matt’s logic.

But Jorge beat the throw and tag by a fraction of a second.  Game over.

With the reality of what just happened starting to settle in, Matt looked in the stands.  Everyone was standing up, cheering and clapping.  His mom was crying.

Jorge’s slide produced the run that won the game.  But it was Matt’s decision as third base coach that set it all in motion.  In the unlikeliest turn of events, he felt like the day's hero.  Gone was the shy, scared eleven-year old, at least for now.

Holy Father, please help me know my place in the Body of Christ so that I can serve faithfully and productively and bring glory to You.  In Jesus' name I pray. Amen.

Rat Race

“Slow down, you move too fast, you got to make the morning last." ~ Paul Simon

“No, No, No!” she said hammering the steering wheel as if tenderizing meat.  “This can’t be happening, not today.”

The traffic snaked up the hill, two lines of steel and tire, each capable of over 100 MPH and averaging about 5 in their stop-start fashion.  In each self-contained world, radios told stories, cell phones squawked or texted and flat screens humored kids. Few noted the scream of sirens from the ambulance driving rapidly into the oncoming traffic.  Just another lap in the (rat) race.

Patti snaked a U-turn across the median and got off at the first exit.  She’d take the back roads home; much slower but at least she’d be making progress.  She turned on the radio and began singing along to “Teach Your Children.”

The sweet harmony ended; replaced with the dreaded news break.  Patti drove on while the broadcaster droned on: a terrorist attack in another European city, rival gang members killed in Chicago, Congress can’t agree on anything, and fans rioting to celebrate a national title.

She switched the radio off.  Silence seemed preferable to listening to anything more about the crazy, competitive society we live in.  Patti slowed down entering a local town.

A tall muscular man was helping an elderly lady out of a car and helping position her walker so she could shop in a local store.  A smiling woman was tossing birdseed into her backyard while a dozen robins flew down to enjoy the feast being laid out for them.  A young man was carrying his two year old daughter safely in his arms.  He tickled her gently when she pulled the hat off his head and they both laughed.

Patti laughed too surveying all the humanity.  It felt like a glimpse of Heaven.  The radio may have been off, but in her heart she was still singing.  Aah!  Patti loved this feeling!

No one was calling her, knocking at her office door and there was no loud hustle and bustle outside.  “Lord, what did I do to deserve this moment?” she wondered.  “Never mind,” her thought process continued.  “I just want to enjoy it.  Thank you Jesus, for allowing me this feeling of freedom and contemplation.”

Honestly, this world could use a little more kindness and a lot less competition.  Kindness makes us all winners in this life.  Kindness reminds us that we are all God’s Children.  Kindness shows us that we don’t have to beat others in this world.  We just have to love them.  May all of your moments here on earth then be full of kindness, love, and joy.  And may your only competition be with yourself: to be the best possible you … that you can be.

“Slow me down, Lord.  Ease the pounding of my heart by quieting my mind.  Steady my hurried pace.  Give me time Lord, to look at a flower, to chat with a friend, to read a few lines from a good book.  Amen  ~ Orin L. Crain

Glory Beyond Description

“Change your thinking and become more like little children.” ~ Matthew 18:3

Her’s is not a new story – but it’s one worth sharing.

Akiane Kramarik’s life began in an unusual way.  By uncommon, she refers to her underwater birth in a shack on the edge of an Illinois cornfield.  Her family had no money, no friends, no relatives, no television or radio.  A simple life – nature hikes, open dialogue, and hands-on searches for knowledge and truth.

Her mother, a Lithuanian immigrant, and father, a chef from Chicago, created an insular home life.  Religion was never discussed in the house; all 4 kids were homeschooled.  There was no prayer, no discussions of God, and no visits to church.  Yet in their isolated, rural environment - free from media influences or outside babysitters, Akiane suddenly began to talk openly about God.

"Prince of Peace"

She spoke of colorful dreams about heaven and God’s amazing love.  Her stunned parents realized her intense focus on God couldn’t have been inspired by anything they exposed her to.  Indeed, Akiane seemed to be having divine encounters with a living god.

At the tender age of four, God instilled the desire to express her visions into art.  Initially, she utilized whatever medium was available: candles, makeup, charcoal, even tomatoes.  At around 8 years old, she progressed into acrylics and oils; and from walls and carpet to sketchbooks and canvass.  That’s when she decided to paint the face of Jesus based on revelations she’d received.

It was a meticulous effort.  Skillfully working with light and shadows, Akiane painted ‘Prince of Peace’ (left) on an enormous 36 x 48 canvass.  “The light side of His face represents the truth, the dark side represents suffering,” she explained.

She was particularly enamored by the beauty of Jesus’ eyes.  “They were like no colors ever created.  His expression was so reassuring and sincere.”

A study of the Shroud of Turin, believed by many to be Jesus’s burial cloth, shows a remarkable match.

The most amazing thing about this child prodigy is that she embarked on this spiritual journey totally unbiased and unprepared.  Yet every word she utters shows extraordinary wisdom, worthy of God's assessment.

Akiane, now 22, speaks four languages including Sign Language.  She’s published over 200 art pieces (some selling for hundreds of thousands of dollars) and 800 literary creations including two bestselling books.  Much of the money from sales is donated to charities throughout the world.

Her second book, “My Dream Is Bigger Than I: Memories of Tomorrow” is a collection of Akiane's childhood dreams, poetry, and personal reflections.  “I portray Jesus how I see Him, as both human and as divine.  I pray that people will one day follow Jesus, His teachings and feel His love.”

 “Since nobody told me how to find God, He found me.  He’s always been there for me.   I don’t belong to any denomination or religion.  I belong to God.  My art is only a representation of what I see - Jesus’ glory is beyond any description!” ~ Akiane

Lord of the Dance

“Christ is the incarnation of the piper who is calling us." ~ Sydney Carter

Today she’d show them!  She would rise from her wheelchair and show them that, at nearly 100, she could still dance.  Dance like the days back when, as a beautiful young girl, boys would wait in line to dance with her; everyone dancing like they'd forgotten how to stand still.

Yes, today she’d show them that she was not just an octogenarian who needed help eating and getting dressed in the morning.  She began pulling herself up from her chair but her arms were simply too weak.  Sophia collapsed back into her seat.  She tried again, this time getting to her feet before she felt a firm hand on her shoulder.

“Sit down Sophia!” the nurse said and she collapsed back into the chair again.

“Not again!” she thought.  It was happening again.  The picture in her mind began fading; a distant memory of happier times.

She’d been in love once, over 70 years ago.  Marco had been what her heart had truly been seeking.  The picture in her mind regained its clarity.

Marco loved dancing too.  The lights twinkled with every step as Sophia spun in delicate circles, her graceful dress billowing.  She loved the pressure of his warm hand on her back and the feeling of her small agile feet gliding across the floor like a gentle dove in the wind.  Their life together had been wonderful.

Sophia outlived Marco and everyone she’d ever known.  They said that long life was a blessing, and the part of her that wanted to dance still believed this.  Such thoughts suddenly made her drowsy, eventually giving way to sleep.

When she awoke she was in the dining room, and someone had placed a white bib on her so she wouldn’t spill.  She decided that the time was now.

She pushed herself up from the chair and got to her feet, and for a second she felt like a teenager again.  She placed her arms around Marco’s imaginary neck and began shuffling her feet, imagining grand ballrooms as she swayed back and forth.

But a loud voice snapped Sophia back into the present. “Sit down before you break your hip,” the nurse shouted angrily.  Sophia reluctantly complied.

She needed those memories to remain with her, to soothe her when the bad ones threatened to erase all traces of those people she still held dear, even in their absence.  And at least for a moment she’d gone to a place in her mind that no one could take from her; a place where she could celebrate all that she once was.

She slumped back into the chair.  Soon the wonderful memories faded into silence, and Sophia’s mind grew quiet until the next time Lord, when she'd dance again.

“Dance, then, wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the Dance, said He, and I'll lead you all, wherever you may be, and I'll lead you all in the Dance, said He.” ~ Ronan Hardiman