Teddy's Rescue

“The Lord takes pleasure in all He created!" ~ Psalm 104:31

For nearly 5 years, Teddy’s loyalty was unwavering, something given freely, unconditionally. But when his owners sold their home to a young couple, they listed their prized belongings and, regrettably, their mixed-breed pup didn’t make the cut.

Tethered to a tree, Teddy sat exactly where they left him. He didn’t try to escape in search of food, shelter, or even companionship because he knew the family that he’d known his entire life would soon return for him. He loved them deeply in ways no human could ever comprehend.

But after 48 hours, feelings of terror replaced cravings for hope. They never came back.

Crushed by feelings of abandonment, Teddy felt confused, unwanted, afraid. There were nicer, less cruel ways of parting company.

But today’s curse can become tomorrow’s blessing.

Marcus and April Delgado hurried to their new home after the closing. Upon arrival, they discovered Teddy, weak and visibly crestfallen, lying near death in the backyard.

Marcus cautiously approached the sweet pooch and released him from the leash. Struggling to stand, the pup sniffed the stranger once, and without any command to do so, sat down, looked directly at Marcus, and lifted his small front paw to be shaken.

The lifelong dog lover had never seen an unfamiliar dog raise a paw to be shaken at a first meeting. April bent down and petting the little furball said “We’re going to make your life so much better, buddy, you’ll never be left alone outside again.”

Teddy’s tail began to wag enthusiastically. After enduring prolonged periods alone outdoors, he could instinctively feel the presence of a loving pair who would cherish him.

The Delgado’s invited their new canine friend inside. Not surprisingly, he seemed unfamiliar with the home’s interior. They fed and bathed Teddy, who remained remarkably calm throughout. But following a refreshing bath, Teddy raced around the cozy living room. His tail became a blur of wagging delight, signaling pure joy with his new surroundings and good fortune.

Showered with warm baths, delicious treats, and plenty of hugs, he cherished their companionship, faithfully accompanying his new parents everywhere, especially adventures requiring car rides with the windows wide open.

It seems that Teddy got the safe, loving home he deserved all along.

Almost four million dogs are either given up to shelters or abandoned each year. It’s hard to fathom how humans can treat such innocent creatures with such blatant disregard.

But it isn’t difficult to imagine the pleasure that animals bring God when we consider the pleasure we derive from watching our own children. We even enjoy seeing animals with whom we have no creative connection. Given that, it is understandable that the One who created all things would enjoy them immeasurably. If you can’t love one like a family member, don’t get one.

Loving God, You created all things for Your glory, yet there are those who languish in pain and suffering. Look kindly upon those animals who are in need, whether they are in the wild, on the streets, or in captivity. Amen

The Secret to Success

“Encourage each other and build each other up." ~ 1 Thessalonians 5:11

Eight-year-old Rehan knew first-hand the damaging effects of poverty. After his mother left the family, his Dad did his best to raise their two sons alone. Despite working three jobs at once, he struggled to stay ahead of the bills and put food on the table.

By the 7th grade, Rehan's grades cratered under the multiple insecurities at home. When his teacher suggested placing the boy in Special Ed classes, his father found a tutor to help Rehan. With a little effort and encouragement, he ended up on the Honor Roll.

His home life fractured, Rehan found solace in athletics. He trained vigorously in martial arts and boxing, hoping he could earn enough to lift his family from poverty. Sadly, that dream ended with dual rotator cuff injuries in his senior year.

With no clear path to success, his hope was but a flicker in the wind. He graduated from high school with barely a 2.0 GPA. Every college Rehan applied to rejected his application. So, he took a job alongside his older brother, Reggie, working for a trash and recycling company.

And his life changed forever.

Those of you reading this might view garbage collection as a poor career choice. Rehan, however, credits his time as a sanitation worker for helping him expose his potential. Coworkers, many of whom were ex-cons, strongly encouraged him to get a college education.

When Bowie State offered to take a chance on Rehan, Reggie agreed to help fund his education. Rehan rose at 4:00 each morning to clean garbage bins and collect trash for 3 hours before classes. Eventually, he transferred to the University of Maryland and completed his undergraduate degree with high honors and the distinction of delivering the class’s commencement speech.

Five of the nine law schools he applied to accepted him. He chose Harvard’s Law School and in May 2023, Rehan Staton received his Juris Doctorate during a commencement ceremony at the school’s campus in Cambridge.

Whatever the future holds, he'll never forget where he came from and those who helped him get there. “I got lucky, I happened to be around people who cared about me. I can't tell you how grateful I am for my brother and my Dad.”

The secret to real success is not just found in academic or financial achievement. Success is found when we help lift others out of their difficult situations and into new lives ripe with possibilities. As people of faith, we’ve been called to help one another. When we see the value in the people around us and invest our time and effort into their lives, they will thrive. Didn’t Jesus become man to show us the way?

Help us Father, reveal Your love and grace to everyone who crosses our paths, so that they may come to know You because they saw You in us. Help us be Your hands and feet, Your eyes and ears, and Your loving heart in all we say and do. Amen

Mizuko Kuyo

 “For in You, the fatherless find compassion." ~ Hosea 14:3

Cheryl walked cheerfully past the playground, dreaming into the future, already creating memories of what her life would be like in 32 weeks. She sensed the reality of her life shifting upon its axis.

Then, just like that – it was over.

She tried convincing herself that she was being superstitious and absurd. But when her doctor confirmed the miscarriage, Cheryl slipped deeply into grief’s paresis, self-isolated by irrational feelings of failure and guilt.

Oddly, even in this era of obsessive confession, these fatalities aren’t often spoken about publicly. Women you’ve known for years who’ve experienced the same loss tell only if you become one of them. Our society doesn’t like unhappy endings.

Cheryl walked around for weeks in a daze, not knowing what to do with her sadness. Her actions felt mechanical, her voice stifled. Then a Japanese friend suggested “Mizuo Kuyo” - a memorial service honoring unborn children who’ve been lost due to miscarriage, stillbirth, even abortion.

Rituals (kuyo) are an ancient Japanese Buddhist practice. Kuyo for mizuko (child) is a means for releasing feelings of grief and ensuring the safety of their lost child’s spirit in the afterlife. It’s commonly practiced by praying to small stone statues obtained by the deceased child’s parents.

Cheryl chose the Koyasan Buddhist Temple Garden, which was filled with hundreds of childlike statues, wearing rain-soaked bibs and bonnets. It included a playground with swings and slides intended for the children’s spirits.

Walking through, she was hit with the enormity of love and loss it all represented. The ceremony wasn't just about making peace with the past. It was also about letting go of stories she'd been telling herself about the present. It was comforting in its simplicity and formality.

And it sounded familiar. Deep down, we long for a Savior full of compassion and mercy for the weak and lost. It reminded Cheryl of the verse (above) from the book of Hosea. Jizo, as lovely as he sounds, is still a manmade imitation of Jesus Christ.

But seeing it laid out so plainly - especially for grief typically so private - brought Cheryl the peace necessary for healing to begin. For her, it wasn’t as much about statues or chants. It was about compassion - for the losses we suffer, for everyone around us, and for the lives we’re living.

Because of God’s infinite mercy and power of redemption, we believe in the salvation of children who’ve died without the benefit of Baptism through no fault of their own. Scripture teaches that any person whose life ends before they cross the threshold into “spiritual maturity” is redeemed. That person is covered by the blood of Christ and passes immediately into the presence of God.

Loving God, please comfort those hurting right now because of the loss of their child. Wrap your tender arms around them and send people who will love them, comfort them, and who will walk alongside them through this time of mourning. Amen

Winter's Wonder

 “He set the earth’s boundaries, the cold winter snow and the warm summer sun." ~ Psalm 74:17

Last night the world came alive, a new white-page with a promising sun. Front lawns and streets were covered with snow. Not just a dusting, but a royal layer blanketing everything. Delicate white crystals came as a promise and an inviting hand.

The cold seeped through the window. Ellen donned her flannel robe and gazed outside. Pure magic: neighboring lawns were undiscernible from her own, the white carpet linked gardens and porches like a Kinkaid painting.

Sometimes we want the vivid hues, the brilliance of floral blooms. Other times we seek the sanctuary of earthen browns and the flicker of fireside flames. Today she felt her soul breathe and ready itself for new beginnings.

Ellen walked down the hallway to her sister, Ava, visiting from Texas over the Christmas break. She gently nudged the dozing six-year-old who’d never experienced snow before.

“Wake up!” she pleaded. “Look outside, your prayers were answered.”

Her kid sister glanced out the window, screaming with delight as her world became a fresh new page awaiting playful feet and mittened hands.

The weather forecast called for sunshine and temperatures in the low 40s. Ellen felt slightly embarrassed, asking God to keep it cloudy and cold until Ava returned home.

The exuberant child couldn’t wait for a hug before leaping off the bed and racing to find the ski outfit Ellen had purchased. They raced out the door and dropped to their knees in the fresh snow. There’s something intoxicating about an excited child. Ellen whispered, “Thank You Lord!”

They made a small snowman in the front yard. You’d have thought she was opening her favorite presents on Christmas morning!

They placed one of Ellen’s hats on it and called it a snowgirl. It seemed to grin, warming those who braved the cold. In Ellen’s imagination, the snowgirl magically grew a beating heart.

They lay on their backs in front lawn and waved their hands, making two snow angels before playfully tossing snowballs at each other. Sledding would have to wait until after breakfast.

They played outside until their hands were wet and cold. Before going back inside, Ellen filled her lungs with the cold, damp air and praised God for the little things that make us happy. Ava grabbed a handful of snow to put in the freezer – just in case it all melted too soon.

When I see fresh powder, it reminds me of the purifying power of the cross, the glory of Christ.

Perhaps God’s purpose for snow is to slow us down so we can simply rest in His amazing gifts. Especially in the case of a snowy days, when school, work, and other events are canceled, God uses snow to help us enjoy the accumulation of grace that He’s protected us beneath.

Lord, may the quiet dusting of snow prepare us to hear Your voice. May the cold increase our desire for the warmth of Your love. And may its purity remind us that You wash our sins white as snow. Amen

Sacrifical Love

 “He works for the good of those who love Him, who’ve been called to His purpose.” ~ Romans 8:28

Still in their teens, Matt and Nicole were adorable newlyweds, her perky optimism, his laugh contagious. They told hilariously frank stories, one finishing where the other left off. They glowed with love, youth, and health.

Thirteen years later, they enjoyed a comfortable life, two young daughters, and a common friend of uncommon affinity. Their script changed with Nicole’s ovarian cancer diagnosis. With it came the shock of mortality, a husband’s emotional trauma, and a dear friend’s refusal to let it happen.

After hearing the heartbreaking news, their close friend, Dane, traveled the few hundred miles to offer support and encouragement. He knew almost immediately that her story would have no surprise ending, no miraculous cure, no illusions of dignity.

Dane decided to stay for a few days and help where he could. His visit grew into weeks and ultimately two years. He left behind his life - a job, a girlfriend, and his own ambitions - to help with the overwhelming tasks of caregiving.

All without being asked.

Dane took on the concurrent roles of housekeeper, babysitter, and caregiver, especially during periods when Nicole's condition deteriorated. He cooked, cleaned, did the laundry, and went grocery shopping to help all the family maintain some sense of normalcy.

He was also there for his friend, reminding him to sleep, eat, and at one point Dane even arranged a hiking trip for the two of them so Matt wouldn’t burn out. It was a story of friendship so deep, so kind, and so enduring that it almost seemed fictitious.

Despite his selfless efforts, nothing could stop Nicole’s steady decline. He couldn’t stop the girls from losing their Mom and his buddy from losing his wife. Yet his presence honored the rarity of a faithful friend who showed when needed most; willing to both sharpen and soothe.

“Dane’s my hero, Matt admitted. “He also just happens to be my best friend.” He’s not perfect, but he’s a close-to-perfect friend.”

Their story speaks volumes about what it means to love someone and how faith in God can carry people through even the most difficult times. None of that would have been possible without His earthly Angel. It reminds us that the job of a “faithful friend” is a High calling.

The loneliness and brutality of this life can’t possibly be endured without relationships. By God’s design, we are essentially social beings. The myth of autonomy - that life is best when totally self-reliant, unencumbered, and accountable only to yourself - is a devastating falsehood.

It’s especially true today when it’s easy to isolate and pretend “social connectedness” that masks real loneliness. We need each other and are happiest when we acknowledge that need.

Thank You, Lord, for sharing Your joy with the world. Help us not take for granted the gift of Your gospel with the nations, and our neighbors. Open our eyes to see the needs around us and respond to those needs with joy and hope. Amen

Holiday Light

“Lord, keep my lamp burning; turn my darkness into light." ~ Psalms 18:28

The holidays were over, but the frosty, darkness of winter continued to linger. For the Ayalas, their outdoor holiday lights burned well beyond Christmas. Even through early March, those outside lights shined brilliantly every night. 

Harold, whose cynicism was often mistaken for intelligence, voiced his criticism of the parents by leaving a 16pt font note in their mailbox stating smugly “If you’re too lazy to take them down, at least turn them off at night." (Truth be known, intelligence requires empathy, love, and generosity of spirit, but that’s for a future Dawg Byte).

A sign outside of their house soon explained why they'd left the lights on. It said simply, "Welcome home, Diego." Their son had been on special deployment with the Army’s 82nd Airborne Division. They’d unapologetically left their Christmas lights on in anticipation of his return home.

It’s no coincidence that two religious celebrations that focus on light - Hanukkah and Christmas - take place during the darkest time of the year.

In the case of Hanukkah, which is literally referred to as the Jewish Festival of Lights, light builds day by day, from a single flicker into a sparkling blaze of a full Hanukkah menorah.

At Christmastime, the story is told of the Christ-child being born under the Star of Bethlehem, whose light guided the Magi to his side. Today, on trees, mantles, and the outside of many homes, twinkling lights remind us of Jesus’ birth.

Lights are a symbol of hope. A beacon guides home an airplane in foggy conditions. A lighthouse steers a ship away from danger. Highway reflectors guide drivers through wet, slippery conditions. Burning lights – optimism for a safe return home. From the time He was born until His death, Jesus, like a light, attracts people and attention to this day.

I think a lot about light during the cloudy winter months. I think about how warm and calm I feel in the presence of a stunning holiday light display. I think about the fragility of a single light, like that first candle on a Hanukkah menorah, and the collective power of a group of illuminated lights.

And I think about courage - the courage it takes to kindle a spark of light; the strength required to summon light when the short days beckon hibernation in the darkness; the bravery we need to keep our lights shining, day by day.

Some are turned off by organized religion. They may be repulsed by hypocritical church leaders, but there is something about Jesus that still captivates our attention. He’s an irresistible Light. It’s our responsibility as Christians to reflect that Light in our lives. If we exalt Christ in our lives and our church, people will be drawn to Him.

Lord, with You there is no darkness. Bring Your light and presence to the dark places in our lives. Bring Your hope to hearts that feel defeated. Bring Your love and compassion to those in pain. Amen