Convincing Raven

I am teaching you today—yes, you—so you will trust in the LORD.

RAVEN HAD NO IDEA she could swim. The black flat-coated retriever had no idea she had come from a long line of swimmers and champion dock divers. Or how dog-paddling was woven into her DNA. All she knew was leg-shaking, tail-tucking fear when she stood in front of a body of water.

And yet, her family knew she could swim. They knew about her bloodlines and her breed’s natural love of the water. And they believed in her ability, even though she had not yet discovered it.

Each time Raven’s family took her to the state park near their home, they hiked up to the lake, hoping this would be the time she would overcome her fear.

They had tried everything over the two years since they’d brought her home. They would toss sticks in the water, which she would gladly chase after—until the water got to her chest, at which point she would hightail it back to the shore. Anne had purchased a life vest for Raven, thinking that would make a difference.

It didn’t.

On this outing, Anne’s husband, Daniel, had carried Raven into the lake, vowing to hold her and let her get used to the feel of the water.

She clawed her way out of his arms, used his head as a springboard, and jumped back to shore.

Their children, fourteen-year-old Jackson and eleven-year-old Rachel, had even gotten in the lake and demonstrated the doggie paddle for Raven.

But Raven wanted no part of this experiment.

“Maybe it’s just not worth it,” Daniel mumbled the following evening. “So Raven doesn’t swim. Is that really such a big deal?”

Anne wanted to agree with him. Raven didn’t need to know how to swim. It wasn’t like they lived on a houseboat and she needed to learn to swim in case she accidentally fell overboard. There were many other things Raven loved—taking walks, playing ball, catching Frisbees.

But they had seen how much their other dogs had loved swimming and knew what good exercise it was. Anne wanted to convince Raven of her own ability and, more important, to teach her that she could overcome her fear.

Anne knew firsthand how much fear could cost someone.

How many places had her intense fear of flying kept her from visiting? How many sleepless nights had her fear of something bad happening to her children cost her? And how many opportunities had she lost to her fear of failure?

Anne wanted more for her dog. And for herself.

The next weekend, Anne’s family once again took Raven to the lake. But this time, they brought a different helper—Raven’s best canine friend, Lady, an avid swimmer.

The moment Lady saw the water, she bounded in. Raven, caught up in chasing her friend, followed Lady into the lake but quickly put on the brakes once the water got deeper. Lady glanced at Raven as if to say, “C’mon. What are you waiting for?”

Lady swam over to Raven, whose feet were rooted to the rocky bottom.

Lady barked. Then play-bowed. And then leapt around, splashing and swimming back and forth in front of Raven.

Raven looked at the shore.

“You can do it, girl. Just try,” Anne whispered from the shore, not knowing whether she was encouraging her dog or herself.

Raven looked back at Lady.

Anne could see the longing in her dog’s eyes. The familiar look of yearning warring with fear.

Anne held her breath as Raven’s front legs began to move.

She grabbed her husband’s arm as the retriever’s back legs left the rocky bottom.

And she whooped and hollered as her dog began the most hilarious dogpaddle she had ever seen.

With her front legs completely straight, she kicked them up and down in what looked like a high-stepping march.

But the more time Raven spent in the water with her friend, the more relaxed she (and her swimming style) became. In less than twenty minutes, the dog who had been terrified of the water was swimming side by side with her best buddy.

“You did it!” Anne praised Raven when the dogs emerged from the lake.

Anne hugged Raven close and then hugged Lady, two dripping-wet friends.

“Thank you for being out there with my girl,” she told Lady. “She trusted you, and you didn’t let her down.”

As Anne stood up, she looked heavenward and made a commitment to God.“I’m willing to try, too, because I know I can trust you.”

PAWS & PONDER . . .

What fear has you shaking on the shore? What is it you are afraid will happen if you step into the water? Take a moment to write down your fear. Next to that fear write down everything you know to be true of God. God is bigger than any fear you will ever have. And he is right there with you. Remind yourself you can trust God. He is holding you, even now. And he will never let you go.

Paws & Pray

Lord, fear distorts my vision. Fear causes me to see it as bigger than you. God, lift my eyes toward you today. Lift my head up and allow me to see things clearly. Allow me to see you as greater than anything. Enable me to take the first steps of faith toward you. I trust you, Father.

As water reflects the face, so one’s life reflects the heart.