A few days ago my family and I were fervently praying for the condition of my Simba to get better. I told God I didn’t know how I would face that ordeal. I loved my dog so much and was too attached to her. Yet I wasn’t sure if it was in God’s will to restore my Simba. I heard that when you pray for healing you don’t always get answers. Some Christians still died despite scores of earnest prayers. Then, I was in doubt if the same was true with my situation. Nevertheless, amidst doubts, fears, and blinding tears, I battled in prayer, hopeful of a miracle.
Two days ago, my dog, whom I fondly called ‘my baby', died.
A ‘NO’ answer.
The vet said clinical signs showed rabies manifestation. She was put to sleep and examined. Lest we all be at risk, the vet suggested we had better go through a medical exam or await the findings of the dog’s autopsy. We were alarmed. I rummaged through the internet and verified the symptoms of rabid animals. It was true. It could be fatal to humans. If the rabid victim was not given timely medical attention, he could die in three days.
We prayed again. To be protected. To be under cover. Would God say ‘YES’ this time? I was scared. I always admit to God my faith is never perfect or absolute. I was shaky, chilling inside, and weak on knees. I was the closest to our dog which stood to mean that I was the most at risk and highly exposed. I would kiss, touch, and hug my dog even during her final moments. I gave all the possible human solace that could comfort her. I cried asking God to make it easy for me. Thoughts of leaving this world in an instant filled my heart with ambivalent feelings, anxiety and expectation. Was I ready? Did I have any unfinished business? Were my financial papers all set for my family? Any obligation to settle? Did I really live out my life for His purpose or would I only be ashamed to admit otherwise? I asked God if He would be glad and pleased to see me now, face to face. Would my eyes throw a downcast look? I could only imagine. Looking up to heavens, finally, I smiled and said, ‘I think it’d be okay Lord.’
Admitting I was ready to go, I asked myself whether this kind of resignation showed my lack of faith in God to cover and protect us from the fatal disease, or, was it a good sign that I was able to come to some peaceful terms with death? I never knew how dying would feel. Sobering thoughts about the world and eternity just came, and for some people, the question of facing God could be unnerving if they knew they are hardly prepared. Then again, confusion lurked.
God answered with YES and NO.
NO, my dog would not be restored to life, and, YES, we were under cover. I was grateful the results were negative. Similar symptoms were associated with Canine Distemper, which my Simba suffered from. Distemper is an incurable disease that attacks the dog's central nervous system which eventually leads to death. Even with His protection, I still cried over losing Simba. I had never known such a sweet, and at times, moody, snooty dog. She was unpredictable in-between mornings and evenings, which made me love her more. It is true that if you'd only care about spending time and getting to know your dog, you’d find they’re like human beings, with distinct, interesting, and special personalities. Simba was an endearing one.
When do we accept His 'NO' answer? As I said, not all His response would come in the affirmative. To assume that His answer would always be positive is to get disillusioned. God is no 'genie' who stands and waits around to do our bidding. He is the God who sits on the throne and He knows what He is doing in our lives.
I had to trust His sovereignty and control - to believe that Simba never escaped the loving gaze of God and that He knew from the beginning what my dog would go through. I had to believe amidst doubts and tears. I had to trust the Father's heart (John 14.1).
Perhaps it was for the best.
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