Graceline: Hope is only a sniff away

I never ceased to be amazed at the ways God speaks to us. I see Him say “I love you” through a robin’s egg, sunsets, purple-flowered weeds, hugs from children, a snuggle with my bride and a cool breeze on a sweat-soaked brow.

By His grace, God is increasingly opening my eyes to His goodness and great love for me. Now I can see Him more clearly jumping up and down, trying desperately to get my attention and the attention of all His children. He is waving His hands and shouting, “I love you. Please, let me love you.”

And still so many are blinded by distrust and cynicism. I hear people demand to know why God allows suffering, and yet those same people walk by His innumerable blessings every day oblivious to His love, mercy and grace.

Nevertheless, God’s love for the spiritually blind is not one bit less than His love for those who have opened their hearts to Him. He is the good shepherd who leaves His 99 sheep to seek out and find the one who is lost.

He gave me an object lesson to reveal His compassion one night not too long ago. I had gone to visit a friend when she directed my attention to the shrubbery beside the front porch. There in the bushes, cowering in a frightened heap just barely out of sight, was a tiny black and brown puppy. After much sweet talking and coaxing, the puppy mustered up the courage to inch forward enough to sniff my outstretched hand reaching as far as it could through the bushes.

The sniff gave her enough assurance to allow a soft pat to her nose, then to her head, until finally I was stroking her trembling body.

My friend said the puppy just showed up one day starving and trembling behind the hedges. Obviously, the dog had been the victim of abuse and ill-treatment, not unlike many people we pass on the street every day, or who sit next to us at church.

All of us have experienced the pain of mistreatment, some more than others. For some, it was an alcoholic father, or a mother we could not please, or a spouse who walked away, or a defiant teenager who ran away from home, or a relationship that turned sour and left a deep gash in our heart.

I can imagine that little puppy had seen her share of heartache and disillusionment, too. I am sure at one time she had trusted another hand, which supposedly reached down in love. To her dismay, it became an instrument of abuse and pain.

The healing of a wounded spirit takes time. That is why Isaiah said of Jesus, “A bruised reed He will not break, and a smoldering wick He will not snuff out.” Matthew 12:20.

The spirit of that little puppy was broken, but still dangling. At the point of dying, yet flickering. A hand extended in compassion fanned the hope of love and acceptance in the heart of that little puppy. The warmth of hope overcame the chill of fear until, inch by inch, courage overcame fright and faith finally swallowed up her hopelessness.

Aren’t you glad Jesus always has His hand of mercy and grace extended toward us? The world is a scary place and getting scarier by the day. Why don’t you let His strength and courage rise up against the fear in your soul at least enough to sniff His hand? Don’t you smell the fragrance of His grace?

Inch forward a little more and let Him soothe the deep longing in your heart for His unconditional love and acceptance. Patiently He waits for you to allow Him to stroke your tortured soul with grace and peace. Relax. Enjoy. Rest in His love. Bask in His presence.

And after you have savored the fullness of His love, maybe you will allow His hand to slip inside of yours to reach out to another who may be cowering anxiously in a weed-bed of life. Be patient. Keep the faith. And never forget life more abundantly than you ever dreamed is only a sniff away.

This story was originally published December 11, 2015 at 10:54 AM with the headline "Graceline: Hope is only a sniff away."