Why, you may be wondering, would a person be carrying hot dogs in the pockets of her coat? Well, the answer is simple, especially for anyone who owns a slightly neurotic dog. The hot dogs are the key to positive behavioral training. You see, my little rescue dog Luna, is a bundle of worry. On our walks we try to use hot dogs enforce positive feelings whenever something "scary" arises - recycling bins, bikers, and most terrifying of all - other dogs. And yet, despite our continued efforts to socialize and practice positive reinforcement, Luna is still overcome with worry.
Sometimes when I'm walking Luna I'm almost a little hurt by her fear. I know dogs don't think like people. I know I can't hold this against her, but after a year of walking every single day, doesn't she know that she can trust me to not let the other dogs hurt her? At this point I know which dogs are calm and friendly, which are a little too exuberant, and which ones we should probably stay away from. Whenever I try to get her to socialize with the nice ones it's like playing tug-of-war. We have made a couple of friends, but progress is slow. I wish she could understand that I would never let another dog hurt her. I would swoop in and take a bite before they got to her. I wish she could understand that all I want is her for to enjoy her walks without anxiety, to make some new friends, and not live in constant terror of getting beat up. She trusts me to give her food, water, and peanut butter sandwiches. I wish she would trust me with this.
Then this morning I came to a passage of Matthew 6 that I've read many times. However, this time, a new thought struck me. I was reading the section of the Sermon on the Mount about worry. It is one of the brightly highlighted and oft-read passages of my Bible. It struck me that maybe, just maybe, God feels a bit like I do with Luna. Maybe He feels a little hurt, somewhat mildly offended that I don't trust Him with certain things. I hold on to worry and mull it over until I get depressed and overwhelmed with it. I probably do this because I know that getting over fears means confronting them. He wants to walk me through my fears, just like I want to walk Luna up to that nice pair of Boxers and let them become friends with her. (She wants nothing to do with them) Yet, handing our worries over to God and trusting them in His hands does not mean everything is always comfortable. That's part my issue. I know He'll make me uncomfortable, just like I'm going to make my little dog uncomfortable this summer. She is going to spend two whole weeks with her grandparents and her Crazy Aunt Daisy, an exuberant heifer of a Yellow Lab.
So what exactly is MY worry? What irrational fear do I need to hand over to God? The answer: jogging strollers. Yep. Jogging strollers. They terrify me.
It's not so much the stroller itself, or even what's in the stroller, but what the stroller represents. (Though the strollers' contents are pretty scary. Babies are a close second on my list of irrational fears: behind jogging strollers and above snakes...and of all the babies, the redheaded ones are the most terrifying. If you know my mother just ask her. She's had one of every breed and she'll tell you the redheads are the scariest.) You see, the jogging stroller represents an encumbered life. Jogging with a stroller just doesn't seem enjoyable. I know, I know, everyone says it's a GREAT workout. But here's the thing - I'm a distance runner, and running 10 miles is all the "great workout" that I need. I HATE feeling encumbered when I run. I don't even wear and iPod if I run anything under 6 miles. Also, let's be honest, I'm no Usain Bolt. I mean it takes me awhile to run a half marathon. What if the kid starts wailing at mile seven? What if I can't get it to stop? Will someone on the trail call Child Protective Services if I just turn up my iPod and let the kid scream all the way home?
This doesn't even scratch the surface of all my worries that are associated with potentially having children. I'm usually able to keep them at bay, but something about strollers seems to unearth these anxieties so that whenever I see a mom with a jogging stroller I'm immediately overwhelmed by my laundry list of fears. (The other day I passed a woman with a double jogging stroller. I about died.) While I know that God promises He'll take care of me, and that He won't give me something I can't handle, I'm not entirely confident that He won't make me uncomfortable. What if he gives me a kid who is actually good at sports (necessitating my attendance at sporting events), or doesn't like to read, or doesn't like history - or worse - a kid who likes history so much that he or she decides to major in it! I could go on. If I were to list all of the things that scare me about children or life with children, this would achieve a Guinness World Record for the longest blog post in history. What's worse, I'm at the stage where everybody and their brother seems to be having babies. Facebook is full of all sorts of posts educating me on things I never even knew I should be worried about: Vaccines are a vast pharmaceutical conspiracy to cause autism!!! Cows milk will cause boys to grow breasts by age 4!!! Your child will probably be allergic to air and water!!! Your baby will poop all over your face several times a day!!! Nothing will ever be clean in your house ever again!!! Your kid is going to scream for three weeks straight and you won't get a wink of sleep!!! (And then in this same breath they say parenting is the most wonderful thing ever. I'll tell you this: Nothing is EVER wonderful when I have not slept. NOTHING.)
So what's the moral of the story here? Basically, my dog and I are very similar. We both have people we need to learn to trust. We both have someone looking out for us, someone who has good things in store if only we can hand over our fear and go forth in faith. Just like Luna and Crazy Aunt Daisy would enjoy being friends, I also do want to be a parent. I think I would enjoy it; I might even be kind of good at it. I mean I like the idea of taking my kids hiking in the Grand Canyon, and baking Christmas cookies, and picking strawberries at our local CSA. I don't want to be a bitter, shriveled old woman. I want to have people I love coming home for Thanksgiving! I feel like kids must be worth it because I've never heard a parent say they regretted having kids. When God says children are a blessing that must be true. God doesn't lie. But accepting that blessing means discomfort, it means learning to trust, it means perhaps learning to let go of some of my OCD tendencies.
There is one very stark difference between my dog and I: she's a dog and I'm a human. Which means I have rational capabilities. I have the ability to think through my worries in ways that she never will. This is a distinct advantage, but it also means that overcoming my fears it a lot harder than just eating hot dogs every time I'm confronted with a jogging stroller. Overcoming my fear of the jogging stroller lifestyle is going to take a lot more time and a lot more prayer.
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