A Major Minor Catastrophe

When the storms of life come, the wicked are whirled away, but the godly have a lasting foundation.

WHEN PAUL AND MARIANNE were given the shepherd mix by one of Marianne’s former students, the couple thought long and hard about what to name him. He was highly intelligent with good instincts. He could find anything they hid in the yard and quickly learned the commands they taught him.

“He’s so smart, he could be in the military,” Paul said. “I bet he’d be a major.”

And yet, as endearing as he was, he didn’t have any concept of his size or strength within the confines of the house. He constantly plowed into Paul and Marianne, banged into furniture, and was always knocking things off shelves with his tail.

“He is a lovable catastrophe,” Marianne joked.

Major Catastrophe.

Outdoors, Major had room to run, play with Paul and Marianne, and explore every inch of his fenced-in yard. They bought him a large insulated dog condo to sleep in, and he enjoyed being an outside dog . . . except when a storm was rolling in. Major was terrified of thunder and lightning, so the couple made sure he was in the house when the weather turned menacing.

One day as dark clouds began to fill the sky, Marianne opened the door to find Major standing there, looking concerned.

“C’mon, boy,” she said, giving him a good scratch. “You’re safe in here. Just try not to go berserk.”

Just then, a bolt of lightning flashed and seemed to electrify the family room. Major shot across the room to Paul.

“You’re fine,” Paul reiterated to his dog. “Nothing is going to hurt you in here.”

After several minutes, Major calmed down. He kept an ear tuned to the storm but began investigating the split-level house, going from room to room. He sniffed the bathroom and every inch of the downstairs family room before heading upstairs to the kitchen.

Suddenly, Major raced back down the stairs. Barking and whining, he stood in front of Marianne and Paul, blocking their view of the television.

“Shhh, Major. It’s okay. The storm will be over soon,” Marianne said.

Major ran over and pawed her arm, but she ignored him.

The dog raced up the stairs, then back down.

“Why are you in such a tizzy?” Marianne said, trying to grab his collar.

Major jumped back, barking and frantically circling around at the bottom of the stairs.

“Okay, I’m up,” Marianne said, passing the remote to Paul. “What is the problem? Is there thunder upstairs?”

As soon as Marianne got to the top of the stairs, she stepped into a puddle of water! A pipe had burst under the sink and water was gushing everywhere.

“Paul!” she yelled. “Turn off the water to the house!”

Between the sound of the TV and the heavy rain outside, Marianne and Paul had not heard the flooding water upstairs.

Marianne hugged Major, thinking how much more damage they would have sustained if he hadn’t alerted them.

They still had quite a mess to clean up, but thanks to Major, it was only a minor catastrophe.

PAWS & PONDER . . .

What are some catastrophes—major or minor—that you have faced? How did you get through them? In what ways is God a “lasting foundation”? If you are facing storms today, talk to the Lord about them.

Paws & Pray

Lord, you are my rock and my refuge, my secure and lasting foundation. Help me not to fear the storms of life but to trust you to hold me fast when they swirl around me. Be my safe place, my rescuer and my defender, Lord.