My family has a dog named Daisy. Daisy is an 85-pound German Shepherd our family got six years ago. Even though we have only had her for six years, it’s hard for me to remember a time when Daisy was not a part of our family. She’s not the best-trained dog, she can be protective and intimidating if you don’t know her, but once she knows you and you know her, you will always feel safe around her.
However it took Daisy quite a while to establish her much-loved position in our family and it’s honestly a miracle my parents didn’t get rid of her before that.
I grew up in an Indian household. And in the culture my parents grew up in, pets are viewed differently than in America.
Even to me, someone who was born and raised in America, it’s sometimes hard for me to understand why we take an animal and give it a place in our house. We feed it, comfort it, and give it medicine when needed, when often times we are not willing to show the same love to human beings created in God’s image who live in our community. And so, for my parents, it was hard to understand why we would keep a dog who caused us a lot of trouble at first, scared our guests, stole food from our counters, and destroyed our house.
I remember waking up one morning around 6:30 to my dad yelling. It was quite a startling thing to hear in the morning and so I ran downstairs to see what was going on. To my surprise, I saw Daisy sitting on the couch with a full bag of English muffins trapped in between her teeth. Right beside her was my dad, standing, filled with rage.
It didn’t take me long to figure out what was going on. My dad was making breakfast and had put the English muffins on the counter as he was making his coffee. At that moment, Daisy saw the perfect opportunity to make her own breakfast. So within a matter of seconds, she ran to the counter, jumped up, and grabbed the bag of English muffins. Furious, my Dad started chasing her, yelling at her to drop the bag but to no avail. Now she had returned to her couch, with the bag in her mouth, and the yelling fest ensued.
What I saw at that moment was one of the strangest things I ever saw in the 18 years I lived in that house.
My Dad, a full grown man, yelling at a dog to give him his food back. Every time my Dad yelled at Daisy, she would return the favor and growl back. Quietly at first, but as my Dad began to yell louder, Daisy began to growl louder. The escalation continued for a few minutes.
I don’t remember how it ended, but there are two things I know for sure. My Dad went to work in great anger that morning. And when he returned from work, Daisy was at the door, ready to greet him, wagging her tail just like she would for any of us when we returned home.
Most people who have a dog understand this No matter what happened before, what emotion I felt as I left the house, what things I said to Daisy, what length of time I went away, Daisy always lovingly welcomed me as I entered my house afterward. It’s just what she does. It’s how God made her.
Some days I’d forget to feed her or not take her on a morning walk. Some days, I wouldn’t play with her or be gone with friends all day. But no matter who I was with, what time I came back, or what place I came from, Daisy would lovingly greet me as I came through the front door.
Her welcome to me is unconditional, and it’s something I always can look forward to when I return home.
There are even times when I am alone with Daisy when she has fallen asleep, and the second she hears the garage open, she opens her eyes, gets up, and walks to the door to greet my parents or siblings.
I want to make it clear that I have experienced love in so many amazing ways, from my family, my friends, my community. But for some reason, the way Daisy shows me unconditional loves resonates with my heart in a unique way. I think God placed Daisy in our home for a very specific reason: to teach me about his unconditional love that he shows me every day.
As I am recounting this story, I can’t help but be reminded of the story Jesus tells us in Luke 15 of a father who loves his son unconditionally. A story where a son forsakes his own father, effectively saying he wishes his father was dead, and runs off with his inheritance, wasting it doing evil things. A story where the son, at rock bottom, desperate to survive, decides to take a risk and return back to his father. A story where the father is eagerly awaiting his son’s return and, at the slightest hope of seeing his son, runs out of the house, forgetting all cultural norms expected of him to welcome his son back. A story where Jesus is showing us how God will welcome us back into his home, no matter what sins we have committed, what doubts we have had, what hurtful words that have come out of our mouths, what pains we have endured.
God’s love is truly unconditional. There is nothing I can do to make him love me even more, and there is nothing I can do to make him love me even less. However, he does ask one thing from me. He asks me to believe in who he is and what he has done. And when you believe in who God is and what he has done, you begin to experience the love of God in so many other magnificent ways.
Thank you, Daisy, for helping me understand the unconditional love God has shown me, is showing me, and will continue to show me forever.
[Nathan Paul is a good friend who recently began blogging. To read more of his posts, head over to his blog at https://curryboy.home.blog/recent-posts/.]