This weekend I got to see my baby ... my big baby.  And it did my heart so much good. 

You see, I had to leave Barnabas in the care of another family when I went through my divorce and moved back home with my parents.  They graciously let me, my three kids, the Jack Russell, the two fish tanks and four turtles descend upon their rather tranquil and orderly world.  The horse (Barnabas), however, was not welcome.  Though difficult, I knew that I was "loaning" him to a family that would take excellent care of him and I would get to see him often.  Plus, is was strictly a loan, not an adoption, as I kept reminding myself.  Barn would come back home to his Momma as soon as I had a house suitable for him, or a stable, whichever came first.

For those of you who have been on this journey with me since the beginning, you already know why I got Barnabas in the first place and what his name means.  I wanted to put hands and feet (and fur) on the love of God.  You'll just have to go back and read my first post if you're not hanging with me right now.  But what I didn't expect was to learn about receiving the love of God through my four-legged gentle giant.

Much like the prodigal son, I left him.  I left Barnabas and have been living without him for the past 16 months.  And every time I go to see him, I have this deep seeded fear stirring within me that maybe he won't remember me this time.  Or maybe he won't have missed me as much as I've missed him.  Or maybe ... just maybe ... he doesn't love me any more.  When I peel back those layers of fear, what I actually recognize is my inability to forgive myself ... for leaving him, for living without him, for the sparse and hurried time that we do have together.  And I think that I must not deserve his affection any more. 

But when I do see him, it's pretty much like a 747 of slobber and legs locks its sights on me and will not relent until I am sprawled out on the ground and gasping for breath.  That's pretty much what his love looks like.  He pursues me.  He relishes my attention.  He is giddy with affection.  And I lose all sense of self-loathing in his company. 

I bet that's what it feels like to be in God's presence.  Wow.  I wish I could take a nip of that every day. 

All my life I've heard that there's nothing like the unconditional love of a dog ... just three tiny letters that can be rearranged to represent so much More.  Maybe I was working from the wrong side of this equation all along ...