For to him that is joined to all the living there is hope: for a living dog is better than a dead lion.
The poppy eyed baby in the picture is my confidant, Senorita Izadora. She has yet to reveal any secret I’ve confided, unless she’s told the little Cuban we call Versace. He was rescue dog from Florida and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t speak English, so I’ll never know. Izzi, and Versace as well, are small in stature, tending to have some issues listed at https://www.rheumatoidarthritis.org/arthritis-in-dogs/, etc; but one would think that they could take down a bear when someone knocks on the door or their bionic hearing picks up a noise only their ears can hear. They bark and growl and then the door opens and the intruder is greeted with Versace’s kisses and Izzi literally runs for cover, scared of her own shadow. They’re not nearly as ferocious as a lion, and they really don’t make me feel too secure, unless you count the fact that at least I can consider myself warned that there might be a danger.
We could learn from my puppy compadres. My two live dogs are of far more value than any dead lion. Yes, a lion is beautiful, until it decomposes. It’s ferocious, until it takes its last breath. Then it is of no more use than a trophy of a past hunt.
I’d love to consider myself a ferocious lion when it comes to sharing the gospel, but I’m not much better than my poppy eyed Chihuahuas. I’ve often ran to the door of opportunity and retreated as fast as I ran.
I have a great fascination with some of the ferocious men and women of the gospel: John R. Rice, Billy Sunday, Corrie Ten Boom, and others who have impacted the world for the cause of Christ. Although their fruit continues impacting the world, they themselves are of no more effect. No one can rest in the laurels of any of those people, nor can we rest in the works of our church in the past. There is a new work to be done. And for those of us who feel our attempts to share the gospel are at best feeble; our feeble attempts are far better than that of those gone on whose work is done. We must continue to keep warning the world around us that Jesus is coming back.
Izadora and Versace can’t defend me if an attacker comes into the house. But they can warn me to be ready. We can’t save the souls of anyone we meet, but we can warn them to be ready by accepting Christ as their Savior.
Let my little Izadora serve as a reminder that your Master needs you to warn His children!