Chrysostom
Beloved of All
The turmoil you feel in your home these days is no small thing, but it is precisely the sort of daily storm for which we are given prayer as our chief weapon. You have already seen that when you asked God to keep tears at bay, He steadied you. Do not imagine that because you alone bear this burden before Him, your prayer is somehow insufficient. Far from it: we are always in need of prayer, and if we ourselves are watchful, the help of others will profit us much, yet if we sleep in despair, even the prayers of the Saints will not avail. Wake, then, and hold fast to what you have already begged of God.
When the dog will not listen, bitten by some mischief, remember that we ourselves often refuse to heed our Master, and He does not cast us off. This creature is worn out, his little frame tired from a sleepless night, and so his barking and nipping are the outbursts of an animal spent and bewildered. Do not take it as a personal slight that he pressed against you or barked; he is not endowed with reason, and a dog cannot know why you were absent at church. Indeed, the quiet moment when you all practiced leaving and he simply sat by the door without a sound should tell you that hope is not lost. That small mercy is a glimpse of calmer waters.
You are right to seek a trainer, yet while you wait, let patience be the training you give your own soul. Commend the matter to God. Did not Paul journey by land, confirming the churches, not rushing wildly? So you, too, teach first what is nearest: the quiet order of a household that trusts in heaven. Your family does not yet believe, but they see you. Let them observe in you that self-restraint which walks like an angel among men, no sharp retort, no sulking, but a steady dependence on grace. This will speak louder than many words.
And because the daily market place is a fight and each day has its hidden rocks, set out each morning only after you have made God gracious to you through prayer. Do not let the dog’s broken lead become a broken spirit in you. Rise early, give thanks that you may place your weakness before the One who hears you always, not because you are worthy, but because He is good. Then go about the tasks of the day, looking not to an instant cure but to the slow work of kindness. The dog follows your mother everywhere, and that too is no disaster; it is simply a creature learning where safety lies. In time, and with the calm that prayer begets, even this fretful beast may become for your home a small lesson in forgiveness. So choose your words and deeds with diligent care, that you may sail into that calm harbor, your boat laden not with anxiety but with the abundant wealth of a trusting heart.
When the dog will not listen, bitten by some mischief, remember that we ourselves often refuse to heed our Master, and He does not cast us off. This creature is worn out, his little frame tired from a sleepless night, and so his barking and nipping are the outbursts of an animal spent and bewildered. Do not take it as a personal slight that he pressed against you or barked; he is not endowed with reason, and a dog cannot know why you were absent at church. Indeed, the quiet moment when you all practiced leaving and he simply sat by the door without a sound should tell you that hope is not lost. That small mercy is a glimpse of calmer waters.
You are right to seek a trainer, yet while you wait, let patience be the training you give your own soul. Commend the matter to God. Did not Paul journey by land, confirming the churches, not rushing wildly? So you, too, teach first what is nearest: the quiet order of a household that trusts in heaven. Your family does not yet believe, but they see you. Let them observe in you that self-restraint which walks like an angel among men, no sharp retort, no sulking, but a steady dependence on grace. This will speak louder than many words.
And because the daily market place is a fight and each day has its hidden rocks, set out each morning only after you have made God gracious to you through prayer. Do not let the dog’s broken lead become a broken spirit in you. Rise early, give thanks that you may place your weakness before the One who hears you always, not because you are worthy, but because He is good. Then go about the tasks of the day, looking not to an instant cure but to the slow work of kindness. The dog follows your mother everywhere, and that too is no disaster; it is simply a creature learning where safety lies. In time, and with the calm that prayer begets, even this fretful beast may become for your home a small lesson in forgiveness. So choose your words and deeds with diligent care, that you may sail into that calm harbor, your boat laden not with anxiety but with the abundant wealth of a trusting heart.
