Friday, September 29, 2006

Now You See Me, Now You Don't

For His eyes are on the ways of man, and He sees all his steps. Job 34:21

My dog Frodo has a thing about squirrels. He either really likes them or he really hates them. I’m pretty sure it’s the latter. In fact, as I heard someone else say about their dog, it seems as if Fro thinks it’s his solemn duty to rid the world of these little bushy tailed critters. Well, he has had absolutely no success at all…yet. A couple of days ago, my husband and younger daughter and I were rather captivated by the sight of our doggy standing poised and still while staring at a squirrel which was no more than six feet away. It was eating away under our hanging feeder near one of the big oaks. Now I really believe that Fro did not think the other animal saw him. We were quite amused as we watched him attempt to creep closer. But, of course, those who live in the wild are no match for the domestic animals under most circumstances. (Except maybe cats.) The wild guy knew perfectly well that our nicely groomed cocker was there. At the first sign of movement, UP the tree it went as if to say, “Ha Ha, you can’t catch me!”

As poor Fro, so often frustrated in this way, sat at the bottom of the tree looking up, you could see a little squirrel head peeking this way and that from the other side of the trunk. “Now you see me, now you don’t,” was its little playful message. Finally, this incident was over and Fro came back into the house to rest until his next try.

I thought it was quite funny that he seemed to be under the impression that the other animal didn’t see him. He was right there in front of it! But Frodo couldn’t see it when it was playing peek-a-boo from the other side of the tree. This brings me once again to my new little granddaughter. I wonder if we’ll ever play peek-a-boo with Selena. We probably will—very soon. What fun for babies! “Now you see me, now you don’t.” It’s always sure to get giggles.

I haven’t talked about the children’s catechism for awhile, but I’m sure the day is coming when she’ll learn the answer to Question 11: Can you see God? The answer to this one is one of my favorites: No, I cannot see God, but He always sees me. That’s one lesson I hope she learns very early. I wonder how it will affect what she does or does not do. It won’t be “now you see me, now you don’t,” but like the answer to the catechism says, He always sees little girls like Selena and big folks like you and me. My question for anyone reading this is, how does this make you feel?


Sara said...

Awwww..your dog's so cute. :) Even though I can't see God, I know I don't need to (there have been times I wish I could see Him- like when going through a hard time). I can feel His presence with me, and I know that I'm never alone!

Mrs. S said...

Poor Fro .... its so hard to be a dog! Just like animals, kids often feel that no one can see them when their hands are in front of their face. We'll use your little story to teach Selena how God always sees her.