A Fairweather Friend

            Cinnamon and I have a ritual. As soon as I open the front door, she places her paws across the threshold and bows down for me to rub the back of her neck. I do. I continue to rub her neck while I sit down on the welcome mat. Once I’m completely on her level, Cinnamon tries to sit in my lap. She weighs between 21 and 40 pounds, so she’s too big to sit there, only I’m not sure she understands that. She tries desperately to fit in that space that’s made when one sits Indian style. The entire time she’s searching for a comfortable spot, I’m rubbing on her, rubbing her side, her stomach, underneath her neck. We are bonding. Eventually, I stand up. We’ve got to get to the track. Cinnamon knows that. Still, she trots ahead of me, blocks my path and rolls over on her back with her paws in the air. My job is to rub her stomach. I do. I reach down, rub back and forth about five times then pat her twice. She hops up. I keep walking. After she’s taken about ten steps, Cinnamon stops, blocks my path and rolls over on her back with her paws in the air. The practice starts again. We do this from Timber Lane to Woodglen. We are so cute.
            I keep really long hours. It was after nine o’clock when I rounded the curve of the cul-de-sac. I scanned the yard for Cinnamon. I didn’t see her, but I did see the mess she had made. While I was gone, Cinnamon decided to play with the towels I keep folded beside her bed. She had taken them to the neighbors’ yard and left them there. The rain had come and totally drenched them. That’s not all. She had dragged her bed over there, too. Instead of just leaving it there as she’d done with the towels, she took a bite out of it, yanked out the stuffing and blanketed our yards with it. I was upset. I got out of the car, let down the garage and went to bed.
            When I walked out the door the next morning and saw that light green stuffing strewn across the lawns, I got mad all over again. Cinnamon was bowed down at my feet waiting for me to rub the back of her neck. I didn’t. I started walking towards the track. She ran ahead of me, stopped, rolled over on her back and waited for me to rub and pat her stomach. I refused. I was mad at her, and I stayed mad through my entire workout routine. When we got home, I began to clean up behind Cinnamon. My anger grew with each piece of stuffing I picked up and crammed into the trash bag. I was furious. I wanted to get back at Cinnamon, so I withheld my love. I didn’t talk to her at all that day. I didn’t even say goodbye when I drove off for work.
            It wasn’t until I turned into the parking lot at church that I felt a wave of guilt. Cinnamon didn’t deserve to be treated like that. True, I did not appreciate her behavior, but that didn’t give me the right to ignore her. We love each other. Surely, there is a better way to communicate my disappointment than by turning my back on my friend.
            That’s when it hit me. Some of us Christians act the same way towards one another. As long people do what we want them to do, everything is fine. But the moment they make a decision with which we disagree, everything changes. We become fairweather friends. Unfortunately, we aren’t the only ones.
            The character, Job, was respected by the majority of people in his town. He was known as a God-fearing man who believed in the power of prayer. Then, by some mysterious twist of fate, Job finds himself at God’s mercy. He knows he’s done nothing wrong, but his friends are convinced he has. The very same people who used to look up to him, the ones who used to say great things about him, now sit in judgment against him. In pain, Job records these words in verse 19 of the Old Testament book that bears his name, “My close friends detest me. Those I love have turned against me” (New Living Translation). What a lonely place to be.
            If you can relate to Job today, take heart. Know that you are not alone. There is One who loves you in spite of the decisions you make, who loves you regardless of the steps you take. This lover of your soul will never leave you nor forsake you but will stand with you until the very end, then usher you into a an even greater reality we call eternal life. That One is Jesus, the One to whom the sage refers when he says, “There are ‘friends’ who destroy each other, but a real friend sticks closer than a brother” (Proverbs 18:24, NLT). What kind of friend are you?
                                                                        Love, miracles and blessings...denise