I went for a walk with my husband and my dog. We drove over to the off leash park and walked along the river. The dog ran and sniffed and explored, while we walked along holding hands. Occasionally I had to loosen my husband’s grip. He is strong and sometimes he holds my hand too tight. He always apologizes and we laugh about it.
The path way is lined with people walking their dogs. Lots of smiles and hellos and “what breed is your dog?” conversations. The answer is a mutt, in case you were wondering. My mind drifts back a couple years. A young boy, a recent émigré, would come talk to Willis and me after school. He more than once asked if my dog is a mongrel. It’s such an uncommon word for Canada. This lovely little boy wanted to be a vet one day, I wonder idly if he still does.
The sun is almost hot enough to make me take my hoodie off. Spring has arrived in Calgary. My spirits are lifted. God’s sun is shining on me. This park with all the happy dog-people has been a respite from the craziness of the world we live in. I am never sorry I chose to go (well except that one time when my idiot dog started a fight with a young border collie).
Fear leaves me when I rest in God’s presence. When I slow down and let the sun touch my skin I forget to be afraid of the world around me.
Malachi 4: 2 But for you who revere my name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its rays. And you will go out and frolic like well-fed calves.
Roberta Writes 