 02/24: It's hard to not be a little anxious. It's hard to not feel like going crazy. For so long I've felt like I'm stuck on a train headed straight for an unfinished bridge, and each new day brings me closer to plunging helplessly down the cliff. Some things are happening too slowly, while others are happening way too fast. All I can really do is just play along, do my part, and hope and pray for the best.  02/15: Truly loving someone means doing what's best for them, even when it brings you to tears. Life can be so short and so fragile, and sometimes the most loving thing to do is to let go, allowing a beautiful life story to reach its happy ending, even if it means never being together again. It's definitely not easy, but beneath all the tears there is peace, because you know that you've done what's best for someone you love. For over seventeen years, my family has been blessed with the presence of our pomeranian-poodle Ginger. Those who have met him - even those who typically don't like dogs - can testify to not only his adorable appearance, but also his incredibly tender heart. The one thing he has always desired more than anything else was to be close to the people he loved most. When no one was home, he would always wait by the door that he expects us to return from. When he was inside the house with us, he would follow us - especially Mom - and make sure he knew which room we were in before he could lie down and sleep deeply. Every pet dog has its share of misbehavior, but for Ginger, most of those incidents were ultimately motivated by his desire to be near to us. I can never forget his early years when Mom would sometimes bring him to pick me up from my middle school. He spent countless hours by my side as I did homework and practiced piano. When he grew up and became a backyard dog, he would climb up and sit on a table during dinnertime so he could see all of us from outside. During my college years, I always looked forward to returning home on the weekends to play with him. After he got older, we once again allowed him to stay inside the house, and doing so only made our relationship with him much stronger. When Tiffany and I began dating, he never failed to bring smiles to our faces when she visited. Day and night, he was an essential and irreplaceable part of our family. The inevitable reality of having a dog is that because its typical lifespan is significantly shorter than that of a human, there will come a day when you have to say goodbye. Ginger was blessed with an incredibly long and trouble-free life. The only major incident that took place was over a year ago when he slipped out of the door unnoticed and was lost for so long that we assumed we would never see him again. Miraculously, over a month later, we were able to not only locate him, but also bring him back home safely. That incident taught us to not only cherish him even more, but also remember that, given his old age, every new day spent with him was a true blessing. Still, there was no escaping the fact that his health was deteriorating at an increasing rate. While we did our best to care for him, we knew we could not keep him from the realities of old age. Carol had already moved out over a year ago after getting married, and last summer I moved out too in preparation for my own married life. We both returned to visit Mom on a regular basis, and each time we did, it brought us great joy to also get to see and spend time with Ginger again. Despite his overall lack of energy and weakening health, he always welcomed us home affectionately and cheerfully. It wasn't until more recently, after Ginger had celebrated his 17th birthday in October, that he became too weak to have control over even basic bodily functions and senses. Last weekend, we came to see the extent of his suffering at a much deeper level and concluded without doubt that he was living in constant and severe discomfort, and that the cries Mom had been hearing from him in the middle of the night were cries of suffering. Mom, Carol, and I agreed that if we truly love him, there was only one right thing to do that's best for him. Earlier this afternoon, we gathered to see him one last time, then set him free from all his suffering once for all. In a way, his disappearance last year played a crucial role in helping us emotionally prepare for this inevitable moment. I'll always remember the days I spent searching every corner my legs could carry me to, hoping to find him, only to return empty-handed each time. The greatest pain came from not only losing him, but also having no way of finding out what actually happened. I eventually prayed that whether he was alive or dead, I wanted to find him simply to have a sense of conclusiveness, even if it meant seeing a body mangled beyond recognition. Thankfully, that was not the case. We were blessed to have him back with us for almost another whole year. And even though we had to let him go today, this time we know without doubt that he's in a better place. Some people believe that dogs go to heaven, while others believe that once they die they simply cease to exist. Either way, there's no greater expression of love than to lay aside our own comfort, desires, and emotions to do what's best for someone we care so much about. In Ginger's case, we know without doubt that he is now in a better place, even if that better place is simply one in which he is no longer present and suffering. For over seventeen years, Ginger has blessed us with countless smiles and immeasurable joy, and he deserves nothing short of the best. Behind all our tears, there is still joy, and there will always be joy. The beautiful memories we have of him will always remain on our hearts, reminding us of how much of a blessing he has been. And we rejoice knowing that any pain and suffering he had been experiencing is now completely and forever gone. This story was bound to end, and we're glad it ended in a way that deeply satisfies both him and us. Ginger, we love you, miss you, and will always remember you. 01/25: One of my favorite things about being a Christian living in this broken world is the assurance that everything - even bad things - happen "for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28). God is sovereign and God is good. If those statements are true, then He is surely in control of every circumstance and would not allow seemingly bad things to happen unless some kind of good can come out of it. And that's where I must have faith; since God's ways are infinitely higher than mine, I may not - and usually do not - know what good He intends to bring out of each hardship, but I must remain confident that trusting in Him will be worthwhile. And as long as I keep my focus on Him, I find peace, even in the most difficult circumstances. 01/20: This is it. The journey has taken over nine months already, and now it's time to step through another open door. God, let Your will be done. That's all I can really pray. If You are willing, then may I be granted favor. If not, I know it is only because You have better plans in store. Either way, I praise You for this precious opportunity. It is both a challenge and a desperately needed boost of encouragement. May you guide me, lead me, protect me, and empower me as You see fit. I entrust all into Your faithful and mighty hands. 01/08: One of the most challenging things for me during prolonged times of uncertainty and waiting is building up momentum. It's like trying to push a broken car down the street - the hardest part is getting it to move from standstill. But once the momentum builds up, the task not only gets easier, but will probably even require additional help to steer and step on the brakes before things get out of control. |