Tuesday Devotional

Max’ism – Be Persistent
Luke 18:1-8

Max is a very persistent fellow. . .must be the Ludwig in him coming out. This was evidenced the other day when he felt like playing and I didn’t. Max brought his squeaky to me and dropped it next to my chair.

“Not right now, Max,” I said.

He nudged it with his nose until it touched my feet.

“No, Max,” I repeated.

He picked it up, squeaked it, then wedged it tightly between my crossed ankles. Laughing, I called to my husband. “Check this out. Look what Max is doing.”

My husband came into the room and together we pretended to be fascinated by the T.V. Max stared up at me, finally growling low in his throat.

“Did he just growl at you?” my husband asked, laughing.

“He sure did.” I picked up the toy and tossed it into the kitchen. Max scrambled forward to retrieve it. “He’s persistent, that’s for sure.”

Which got me to thinking. God said we are to be persistent in approaching Him. We are not to give up nor surrender the powerful weapon we have in prayer. God will bring justice for His chosen ones, those whom He has called members of the household of faith. The question then, really is do we have enough faith in Him in to keep seeking?

Tuesday Devotional

Max’ism – Living Water
John 4:1-13

“Max’s water dish is empty!”

My voice echoed back to me through the suddenly silent house. Funny how fast kids can disappear when there are chores to be done.

Heaving a sigh, I grabbed his dish, gave it a good scrub, and replenished the water. Max watched me the whole time, his eyes fastened to the bowl and his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Poor puppy,” I crooned. “You were thirsty, huh?” I set down the dish and watched as he lapped at the cool water.

“Good grief, Max,” I said, picking up the bowl when he’d finished and filling it again so I wouldn’t have to do it in the morning. “You were thirsty.”

Eyes fixed on me adoringly, his tail thumped against the tile floor—his way of showing appreciation. All of this reminded me of another story, and of living water which Jesus said once a person partook of, would cause them never to thirst again. Suddenly, I realized what a gift it is that Jesus recognized my condition and took care to see to my need. And I’ll be careful. . .that Max’s bowl is never dry.

Tuesday Devotional

Max’ism – Setting Boundaries
Exodus 20:1-20

I have a full time job, which means for a large part of the day Max is alone. . .with the cat. While not ideal, the situation worked for a while, but gradually I started coming to home to more and more messes—a trash can turned over, things scattered around the floor, not to mention the little gifts Max sometimes left behind. You know what I mean. All of that was inconvenient, but it wasn’t a major problem until I found him tangled up with an appliance. Yep. Somehow, he’d managed to worm his way into the storage closet, tip the vacuum over, and entangle himself in the power cord. I shudder to think how long he was in there. I’m assuming it was a confrontation with the kitty that led to his predicament. Either way, I knew I had to do something.

So, it was off to Wal-Mart to buy baby gates.

Knowing what an athlete Max is, I thought it wise to buy gates too tall for him to jump over. He was curious at first, sniffing the new contraptions with interest. But then he discovered what they were for. The first time I left for work with the gates up and Max secured behind them, confined to the kitchen, hallway, and bathroom, he pouted, and whined, and cried, sadly watching me leave from the window next to the door.

I ran home at lunch to check on him. While he still wasn’t happy, he wasn’t tangled up in a cord, either. I turned the radio, having heard that any noise in the house helps keep a pet from feeling lonely. It took nearly a month, but Max has accepted that there are days he’ll be confined by the gates, and he no longer whines when I leave, content to play with the crate full of toys I’ve bought him, and listen to Bob Barker announcing the winner on the Big Wheel.

Which got me thinking.

Boundaries are a good thing. They keep us from harm. They limit the trouble we get into. So why do we buck against the boundaries God has set for us, knowing that He placed them with our best interests at heart? If we’re certain that our God loves us, shouldn’t we be glad that He cares enough to see to our welfare?

I know I am. And I think Max is, too.

Friday Funnies

OLD IS WHEN ...Your sweetie says, "Let's go upstairs and make love," and you answer, "Honey, I can't do both!"

OLD IS WHEN...Your friends compliment you on your new alligator shoes and you're barefoot.

OLD IS WHEN...A sexy babe catches your fancy and your pacemaker opens the garage door.

OLD IS WHEN...Going bra-less pulls all the wrinkles out of your face.

OLD IS WHEN...You don't care where your spouse goes, just as long as you don't have to go along.

OLD IS WHEN...You are cautioned to slow down by the doctor instead of the police.

OLD IS WHEN..."Getting a little action" means I don't need to take any fiber today.

OLD IS WHEN..."Getting lucky" means you find your car in the parking lot.

OLD IS WHEN...An "all nighter" means not getting up to pee!

Tuesday Devotional

Max’ism – Now That’s Talent
Matthew 25:14-30

I’ve always thought Max was a smart dog, but he really impressed me one day when my husband pulled out the treadmill do his running.

Determined to get in shape for a ski trip we are planning over spring break, my husband has been running faithfully for about three weeks. Each time he turns on the treadmill, Max sits next to him, watching the belt speed by. Worried that he might try and grab the belt with his mouth, or get his paw stuck, I usually encourage Max to move away. But today, I wasn’t paying a whole lot of attention to him…until my husband called my name.

“Come see what your dog is doing,” he huffed.

So I went into the living room to watch. Max took his squeaky, carefully set it on the front of the treadmill, and waited patiently until the vibration of my husband’s pounding feet knocked it onto the belt. The squeaky then shot off the back, sailing into the air a good foot before hitting the ground. The moment the squeaky fell onto the belt, Max dashed around to the back of the treadmill and tried to catch the squeaky before it fell to the floor. Over and over he pulled the same trick, each time coming just a little closer to catching the toy. My husband got to laughing so hard he had to stop running.

“Now that’s talent,” he said.

“No kidding. I need to write a Max’ism about it.”

Basically, I thought it was such a neat trick I wanted to tell people about it. I didn’t want to hide Max’s little “talent.”

Which got me to thinking. God has given each of us a talent—something He wants us to use for His glory or the furtherance of His kingdom. What are we doing with the gifts He’s given us? Are we showing off our talent—using it for Him? Or are we hiding our talent, content to keep it buried where it’s of no use to us or the One who bestowed it?

If I’m serious about serving the Lord, I going to have to use everything He’s given me, even if it means digging up “an old talent.”

Friday Funnies

TRUTHS ABOUT LIFE I LEARNED FROM BAD 80'S MOVIES

Smart people wear thick glasses, button-down shirts, and slacks. Dumb people wear football uniforms.

Your dog is way smarter than you.

France is populated entirely by attractive young women and Gerard Depardieu.

Every Southern town has a fat redneck sheriff named "Smokey."

Mexico is populated entirely by vacationing frat boys.

Parents always come back from vacation a day early.

There are no ugly prostitutes.

It's only possible to win any sporting event in the last three seconds of the game.

The best way to escape your enemies is to drive on the wrong side of the road.

A student who's failing every class can still rig up an elaborate device to answer his phone when he calls in sick.

Tuesday Devotional

Max’ism – My Four
James 2:1-11

Max is not a people person kind of dog. There four people in his life that he loves—me, my husband, my son, and my daughter. Oh, he tolerates a few others—my son’s girlfriend, a couple of my daughter’s friends, and the cat. But on the whole, Max pretty much believes in the old saying, “my four and no more.”
That was made evident the day we invited the varsity football team over to our house. As part of pre-game day tradition, parents of varsity football players have started making dinner for the team on Thursday nights. Around 5:30, the first boy arrived. Max barked when the car pulled into the driveway just as he always does, but when the boy came into the house, Max promptly grabbed his pant leg and started tugging. I couldn’t get him to stop. Fearful that his actions might turn even more aggressive, I shut Max up in our bedroom for the duration of the meal. It would have worked, if my daughter hadn’t gone into the bedroom for something. Out shot Max, barking, growling, the hair on his back standing straight on end. I must admit, I laughed when I saw all twenty of those macho football players pull their feet up onto the couch. Fortunately, once Max warmed up to everyone, he was pretty much content to ignore the intruders and everyone went home without a scratch.

Later that night, Max lay curled up on the loveseat next to me, his cold little nose tucked into the crook of my arm.

“It’s funny how he can be so loving to us, and so aggressive toward everyone else,” my husband said.

“Yep. I’d say he’s partial to us,” I replied, laughing.

But that got me to thinking.

Are there certain people I show partiality to? Do I show favor to some and not others? Has my church become a place where I’m content to say, “my four and no more?” Too many times, I’m afraid the answer to these questions would be yes. Even more frightening is the idea that my favor may be influenced by a person’s wealth or position in the community. I guess that’s why God saw fit to warn against showing partiality, and why I’m inclined to listen.