The Reconcilliation of Poochini

She is medium height with short blond hair and brown eyes. Shy and retiring is she, possessing a gentle way with children.

The day my children set eyes on her they determined that she was ours: Nikki, the quintessential kid dog.
Her real name is Nikki, but I started calling her Poochini as my wife and children horribly spoil her. My teenage son pampers her so much that he won’t let her drink tap water, only filtered Britta water!

Poochini is deservedly spoiled I suppose. Leave it to us to rescue a middle-aged pooch, abused by previous owners. It seems a bearded man beat her. Consequently, she is afraid of me . . . always aware, always nervous around me. It gets old always trying to make friends with a wary Poochini who treats me like a stranger, never a wag of her long yellow tail . . . always a cold stare. What ever happened to man’s best friend?

Nonetheless, I find it absurd to invest so much time in attempting to bond with a dog when I struggle to find the time to deepen my relationships with people! Yet, being a stranger in my own house with Poochini continually avoiding my presence reminds me that one fine day all creatures will be reconciled. You know . . .. “The lion will day down with the lamb”; the environmentalist will picnic with the logger; the Palestinian will embrace the Israeli, and all that.

One fine day Poochini will know deep down in her little doggie huncher that I can be trusted as a kind master who would never beat her.

Praise be to our God of grace who is in the process of reclaiming and reconciling the whole of the created order. Every aspect, every dimension, every web of relationships will be made whole, together, complete. The irreversibly shattered will be recreated anew. The bent will be made straight. As the Scripture proclaims concerning our life hidden in Christ:

“For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in Him, and through Him, to reconcile to himself all things . . . “

So, Poochini, I will keep on trying to reconcile your brokenness, your mistrust. Love, even for an abused middle-aged dog that no one else wanted is never lost in the Kingdom of Heaven.


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