Bruno

 Blowing in like the Chinook he was named after; the first Samoyed found us before I’d entered kindergarten. We called him Sam. The second Samoyed, Bruno, magically appeared as a puppy when I was on the cusp of adulthood. Small, oh-so-soft rumbunctious ball of white fur. Fully grown Samoyeds are snow-white (appearing more yellow when actually in snow) sled-pulling dogs like a Husky. Atop that hard nose was soft, smooth cotton. Fur on the back white and wiry; I delighted in petting the soft fur on his head. In the dream it was that warm softness that permeated everything.

Before my first kiss Bruno and I had shared an edible dog chew. One end in my teeth Bruno would grab the other. Like Jackie Paper and his friend Puff, Bruno and I would set out for adventure in my metal Hornet. I was beginning to realize I was wired for solo explorations down beach canyons and through Hollywood hills. Not lacking for friends there remained a dire need for connection with self and fun loving companion.

If you were once a teenage boy you ought understand. Angst and emptiness warred in my not-quite grown-up soul. Grabbing my sleeping bag, I let my mom know I was sleeping on the back porch alongside Bruno. Wondering now if I needed connection with something or someone faithful. Trying to step outside of the emotions inside. Like Odysseus and Argos there is a special connection between man and dog.

In the dream Bruno was being hugged; full bear-hug. In real life I carried a tranquilized Bruenster into the vets; limp body held tightly. 

Photo by Barcs Tamás on Unsplash

Why God With Us Matters

Darkness pursues him. Running, running, he can’t keep it up.  His feet stumble; you can see he’s tired.    Darkness will crush him.  Darkness is gaining; the hero is tiring.  His heart too; losing hope.  Alone.  Not going to make it.  Out of the shadows; someone else coming.  Running the same direction.  Running toward the hero.  Running with the hero he shouts encouragement.  They gain strength; darkness lags. 

To persecuted, fearful, world-worn travelers God’s consolation is this, “I am with you.”  The solution isn’t escape from the pain. It is supernatural accompaniment through it.  I don’t fully understand it. But one can catch glimpses.  In the Lord of the Rings when Frodo tells Sam he is going to Mordor; Sam responds, "I know that well enough, Mr. Frodo. Of course you are. And I'm coming with you.” During my divorce I had some close friends that walked through the fire with me.  Barad-dûr, back-stabbing and bitter days are more easily faced when strength is encouraged by---and borrowed from—friends.

We desire lives free from trauma.  That is not realistic Let’s face it. The darkness comes.  If it finds us alone we despair.  God’s heart is to draw near.  The Psalm says God draws close to the broken-hearted.  It is this knowing that this is His heart that speaks to our heart. God who has a name for each star that He created is moving with us through each situation we face.  That is our solace and our delight.  The creator of the cosmos is a refuge for us. 

“Though I walk through the valley…Thou art with me.”  The famous Psalm.  God is not aloof and we are not alone.  That is why it makes a difference.  There is a knowing that God is with you and in Christ He has felt everything.  The pain has a purpose.  God is in your corner.