My Dog at the Church Picnic

I am one of those people

who take their dog anywhere they can

especially to an outdoor venue—

Easter Sunday to a church picnic

on a beautiful sunny day

and all is well

until the pastor’s dog

meets my dog

and all hell breaks loose

(cuz my dog doesn’t like other dogs)

and my dog looks like the biggest sinner

snarling at the cute little white puff ball

the pastor’s dog so calm and composed

my dog lunging on his leash

head low to the ground

more snarls and lunges

sudden forward thrust of his body

paws extended outward to attack

serene picnic eating interrupted

all eyes on the snarly sinner

when I pull him back

tell him what a bad dog he was

no treat or reward for this behavior

then I forgive him his sin

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NaPoWriMo Day 17 prompt to write about a dog.

My Dog at the Church Picnic

Caesarea Philippi

Start in Caesarea Philippi

twenty mile walk from Capernum

take the Roman road

to the Greek god Pan

beautiful site

at the foot of Mt Hermon

source of the Jordan River

the Cave of Pan

enshrined

where Jesus told his disciples

that he would die

& live again

Who do you say I am?

& Peter exclaimed

Son of the living God!

& with this revelation

the church was built

here on the crags

of Caesarea Philippi

Caesarea Philippi

Beginning

The last time I saw Eduardo was at Hoxie’s funeral. It was a sad affair as he was a young man gone too soon. Eduardo had once cried as he told me his testimony. Not Hoxie’s testimony but his own. Hoxie’s I never heard. Now we were sitting together at a funeral and he doesn’t speak. He had left the church about a year ago.

Hoxie, however, died in the church. Not hypothetically, but literally, died in the church. He was teaching Sunday school and collapsed on the floor. Nobody knew CPR. I was backsliding that day or else I would have been there. I heard later that there was nothing anyone could do, not even prayer— it was an aneurism.

There was a lot of guilt mixed in with sorrow that perhaps had I been there that I could have saved Hoxie’s life. I had never saved anyone except a Red Cross CPR mannequin. Good enough to blow into the fake lungs and press down the chest to keep the nonexistent blood flowing. I thought at the time that had I been there, had I been in line physically and spiritually that Hoxie would have lived!  The church people told me there was nothing anyone could have done.  I was beginning to believe them.

have faith in small things

a snowflake falling on tongue

can quench more than thirst

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dVerse prompt on beginnings — this is the start of a story I am telling.

Beginning