Listen carefully to the bark.

 

I was excited to get home in time to see the sun go down, so I grabbed my two dogs and headed for the bluff with a box of Extra Toasty Cheezits to munch on.  Yes!  This was nice.

Right when the bluff was in sight, both dogs took off like rockets, barking like crazy.  It was not their “let’s have fun” bark.  It was their “DANGER IS IN THE AREA” bark.  They frantically scrambled back and forth along the bluff’s edge and occasionally disappeared onto the next level that creates a shallow rock ledge.

Suddenly I realized, there was a third bark in the mix.  It was a high pitch yelp that sounded like a small, yappy dog or maybe even a puppy.  Oh no!  We live in a pretty remote area and border a state park so I couldn’t even imagine how this helpless little dog survived to make it to this spot.  At the very least, it must be starving.

 

There was a lot of commotion as my dogs barked their heads off and the poor little puppy yelped and yelped, no doubt scared to death.

 

It took a lot of work and they fought me the whole way, but I finally got ahold of my dogs to practically drag them into the garage.  “That’s no way to treat a helpless little dog!  That may be your brother or sister soon, so you’d better be nice!”  I began to imagine a sweet new addition to our family.

I grabbed a bowl of dog food, threw some tasty meat scraps on top, and headed back to rescue the stranded puppy in peace.  After setting the food at the edge of the bluff, I leaned out as far as I could to get a glimpse of the little dog. I couldn’t see anything, but I could hear it panting nearby.  Yeah, it had to be terrified.

For some time I sat there coaxing the dog, in my best baby voice, to come get a bite to eat.  “You can come out now.  It’s safe. I have some food for you...”  I patiently waited but it never made an appearance.  Meanwhile I could still hear my dogs barking hysterically in the background.  “Don’t worry.  The big bad dogs won’t hurt you.  They are locked up where they can’t get to you.”

 

Eventually, my husband showed up and I filled him in on the situation.  We both assumed the puppy had gotten trapped at the same spot two of our dogs found many years ago when Clay had to rescue them.  

 

That time, it was a small ledge about ten feet off the bluff that only gave the dogs two choices.  Either jump up ten feet or fall about a hundred feet.  That time Clay had to scoot down to the ledge and supernaturally toss each dog over his head to save them.  We have both scratched our heads over how in the world he managed that – must be like the adrenalin rush when a mother lifts a car to save a child.  

 

Neither of us could see the stranded puppy so Clay got a ladder and positioned it with one end on the ground, and the other end resting in a tree off the bluff.  It created a sort of platform so he could carefully crawl out to get a good look at the dog and assess the situation.  He found it, alright, just a few feet below.

“That’s no puppy!  It’s a coyote!  And a really big one at that!”  It appeared to be starving and maybe even injured, which would only make it more dangerous. 

Suddenly the entire episode looked completely different to me and about made my head spin.  How could I have been so wrong?  I pictured myself just a few feet from the coyote with a bowl of meat scraps, “you can come out now...”  It was shocking how different the whole scene looked once I knew what was really there.  No wonder my dogs were going nuts.  They were trying to protect me, and I locked them up.    

 

This whole incident reminds me so much of what we see at Blue Monarch from time to time.  Sometimes I feel like we scramble back and forth to protect the women we serve, barking, “DANGER!  DANGER!”, but occasionally a few will convince themselves they know better.  They will insist they can keep one foot in the new life and one foot in the old, even though we have never found that to be successful.  Not even once.

 

“It’ll be fine.  I can still hang out with my old crowd when I leave, and I will even influence them to do better.  You’ll see.”

 

“I can go back to that old relationship.  He’s going to LOVE the new me.”

 

“I can take prescription drugs when I’m overwhelmed.  Don’t worry, I won’t abuse them.”

 

What’s worse, though, is that they often have a family member who will actually encourage and support their unhealthy choices, and place that bowl of meat scraps right in front of them where they can get a good whiff. Sometimes I feel like saying, “Dear Enabler.  Please stop.  You are undoing all our hard work.”

 

There have been a few of these type disappointments over the past year, when no amount of reasoning made a difference.  One actually came very close to a devastating, tragic end doing it her way.  But despite the times when things haven't gone exactly the way we’d like - this is what still gives me hope.

 

Just like the scripture we use for our Children’s Program this can also apply to the grown women we serve. (Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not turn from it.  Proverbs 22:6) 

 

In the recovery arena we hear a lot of talk about giving people tools for their tool belts.  But this is no construction project.  It's a fight - a battle for life.  So, every single day at Blue Monarch, we hand each woman a new weapon she can use to protect herself and her children.  We invest a profound amount of time and energy into building her arsenal so she will be prepared to fight for her recovery and her family when she finds herself in a treacherous spot. 

You see, there is going to come a day when she comes face to face with an adorable little puppy, only to discover it's a wicked coyote suddenly looking her in the eyes.  Our prayer is that in that vulnerable moment, she will reach for her weapons and courageously say, "You can come out now.  I'm ready to fight.  And guess what - I intend to win."  

"You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world."    

1 John 4:4