Lent... the catch dog of the liturgical year

Barney came to us bearing the wounds and scars of abuse. For two years he watched us from afar, gradually drawing closer, slowly gaining trust in us. The UPS man who refused to leave his truck because of Barney’s fearsome barking, once again leaves packages on the front porch. Men wearing baseball hats are allowed in the front yard again and cameras are a nuisance not a threat. He is still shy, choosing to approach you from the rear rather than straight ahead. But, he will come and let you pet him. Our Christmas miracle was Barney’s coming into the house, sitting in the chair with Michelle, Adam’s wife, for hours with his head laid in her lap. It was a complete turnaround from his former self. As you can see in the attached picture, he is sprawled in our neighbor’s lap resting in the assurance of comfort and mercy.
I sent this picture to my Uncle Harold, daddy’s last surviving brother. He holds the family memories of growing up on a hardscrabble farm. Farm animals were allowed to roam free finding food in the surrounding land. Fences for small pens were attached to barns. Hogs had notches in their ears and every farmer had his own pattern, much like the brands on cattle. When it was time to round up hogs or get hold of one particular animal, the catch dog would be called. This dog would have been trained to run up behind the animal and take hold of the hind leg in a place that would prevent the animal from running away. The farmer could then approach the animal to do whatever needed to be done.
Uncle Harold took one look at Barney’s picture and told the story of their family’s catch dog that looked just like our dog. Barney is a Black Mouthed Southern Yellow Cur, an old breed in the south, used for working livestock, hunting and protection. If you saw the movie Ole Yellow, you saw one of Barney’s forebears. Old memories made new again floated to the surface of Uncle Harold’s memory as the sight of Barney triggered a stream of stories.
Lent is the catch dog of the liturgical year. It forces us to stand still, to stop life as usual, to reflect and remember all that has gone before. If we wait in silence, all the hard good beautiful ugly painful joyous memories of our life this past year will come to us, holding us captive to the tender mercies of God as we confess and are forgiven. And in that waiting time, that slow confessing and forgiving time, we can find release and healing for all that has wounded our souls, for all the hurt we have inflicted on others and new life can come to be. We can sing the old hymn, “Marvelous grace of our Loving Lord, grace that exceeds our sin and our guilt...Grace that will pardon and cleanse within...Grace that is greater than all our sin.” We can know the wondrous miracle of being tended to, relieved of our imperfections, forgiven our sins and sent on our way to new life in Christ, risen and redeemed.
Dear God, I need Lent this year. Catch me, hold me still. Make me over in the image of your Son so that I might be more loving, more like You. Give me a new life washed clean and made whole by your clarity, judgement and grace. And when I am set free again, help me to run the fields with joy and gratitude for this wonderful gift of life. Amen