Apple of His Eye

"Mimi," my 10-year old granddaughter "Kay" spoke over the phone,"will you pick us up after school Wednesday and take us to church later?" We often did this, although we usually picked them up at home at church time. They stay for an after-school program, so I agreed to pick them up at 5:15. "And one more thing," Kay went on, "can you bring Pebbles to school on Thursday for a dog show?"

I checked with Pa-Pa and he said  we would. "It's at 2:15.  Be there at 2:15," she emphasized.  "If you forget, just call  me and I'll remind you," the precise youngster stressed.  (I smiled. I didn't  know how we would call her, if we forgot!)

When we picked Kay and her younger sister Beth up, I told them we weren't taking them out to eat this time, because I  had made supper at home.  They loved the spaghetti, and enjoyed cake and jello with bananas for dessert.  After their girls club meeting, Kay again reminded us of the dog show.

Howard went and bought Pebbles a new leash and collar.  We weren't sure how she would react at school, since she is an alarmist barker when anyone walks by the house. She surprised us, though, and was pretty much on her best behavior, although she showed an uncommon interest in a hamster in its cage.  (Howard nudged me and reminded me she has killed 3 hamsters in her career.)

This wasn't just a dog show, I realized. There were baby ducks in a cardboard box, a Sphinx cat in a sweater (it had little or no hair), a bird in a cage, and several more dogs, including a gorgeous Husky with arresting, luminous eyes of pale green, a St. George Spaniel, a small bulldog, a huge lab, and other small dogs.  We were called in one by one, and finally, after 45 minutes of standing in the hall, it was our turn (Howard had given up and waited in the car).

Kay proudly held Pebbles for all to see.  The teacher asked her name, how old she was, and if she did tricks.  Kay demonstrated a kind of half-rollover she got Pebbles to do.  Some of the queries from the teacher were a little awkward. "Where does she sleep?" she asked, "in a kennel, or in your room?" To fill the silence, I chimed in that she stays with Mimi and Pa-Pa.

Then from the assembled group of children, a teacher asked, "So you are ten years old, and you said the dog is ten.  Did your parents get her for you when you were born?"  Kay didn't say anything, so I explained that our granddaughter was adopted at age 6.  "Oh, yes, I forgot," the teacher said.

I didn't explain that Pebbles is a casualty of divorce.  Our son loves the dog, but he is gone for months working out of state, so she is left with us, with occasional visits to see the rest of the family.  They also keep Pebbles if we are out of town, and the children love her.  Although I complain about having a dog in the house, mussed sofa pillows, dog hair and accidents, apparently we have adopted her, because we love our son.

The Bible speaks of adoption several times, in that we are adopted into God's family through Jesus. "Having predestinated us unto the adoption of children by Jesus Christ to himself, according to the good pleasure of his will, To the praise of the glory of his grace, wherein he hath made us accepted in the beloved," Ephesians 1:5-6.

Romans 8:15 assures us, "...ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. (16)The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God: (17) And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may also be glorified together."  Jesus is a Son by nature, but we are sons by adoption. Praise God!