You know that question people always ask? "Why do bad things happen?" I found myself asking it a few weeks ago as our beautiful 2 year old boxer dog died suddenly and without warning on Thanksgiving day. Our poor dog-sitter returned to the house to find her body while we were hours away with family.
Josie was a new dog to us, that we had gotten through Craigslist 8 months before from a nice family who just didn't have time for her. She spent her days in a kennel while they went to work and school. At 15 months old, she still wasn't potty trained when we got her. But our Chloe needed a playmate and Josie was a sweet little boxer and we brought her home. She quickly learned her place in our lives; playing in the yard with Chloe, going on runs with me, and following my wife Katie to every single room she went to throughout the day. Josie was always touching someone, as lovable as they come. We always believed that her previous neglect caused her to be so dependent on us for affection, and we loved that. And therefore, she wiggled her way into our hearts quickly.
Then she was gone. I am not a cryer. The last time I cried was ten years ago when my grandpa died, and even then, I did it in secret. I am a practical, logical person, and emotion rarely bubbles to the surface in this way. (In fact, I sometimes laugh at inappropriate times instead.) But I balled at the loss of my Josie. Katie and I were a mess. It ruined our Thanksgiving and made us terrible parents to our boys; we just lost all patience for their behavior and yelled unnecessarily. It was a rough weekend.
I, being the impatient person that I am, started looking at Craigslist for another boxer. No, another one wouldn't erase the hurt from missing Josie, but we knew we'd want another for us and for Chloe, and I'm not much for waiting. And there he was; a 6 month old brindle boxer named Prince in Des Moines, who needed a new home. So there we went, 50 miles out of the way on our already horrendous 8 hour drive home from Wichita, to Des Moines to see a dog. And we brought him home.
Cassius - the dog formerly known as Prince - is possibly the tamest boxer I've ever seen. He is mild mannered, sweet, and extremely loving; and a great addition to our family.
So let me get back to the question. "Why did our sweet little Josie have to die?" While I don't know specifically, I do know this. We live in a world wrought with sin, illness, and death; and all of these are a result of the Fall. And because of this, we all die. I don't for a second believe God took my Josie away from me. Not to test my faith, not to punish me, not to make way for Cassius. Jesus loves me, this I know, and His desire is not to hurt me. In fact, I believe He was with my family as we grieved.
But our God is a God of redemption. And He can redeem the worst situations. I've seen it before in my life, and I'm seeing it now. While we miss Josie and would never have wanted her gone, Katie and I talked at lunch today at how happy Cash seems to be now. His previous owners had no room and he went from inside kennel to outdoor kennel and back. Now, he runs and plays with Chloe, chases our boys, and lays on the couch with us at night. In fact, he follows Katie around all day just like Josie did. In the midst of our loss, God is redeeming our family, our hurts, and working for our good.
I know what some of you are thinking: You have way bigger problems than losing a dog. I agree. There are much worse situations in many peoples' lives. But God is there too; redeeming your story and working to give you a hope and a future.
Our world is broken and bad things happen, but our God is hard at work redeeming His creation; getting His hands dirty on our behalf. And I am grateful for His faithfulness, even when my faith wanes.
Thanks, Jesus, for Your love and grace. And tell Josie we love and miss her.
