I nearly tripped over her in the dark.

The coal-black Labrador was lopped across the back stoop when I stepped out a few moments ago. Her brother, almost as black, wasn’t far away.

It is twenty-four degrees outside.  The wind-chill (if you believe in such things) is below twenty.

Their heated doghouse, with its cedar-mulch covered floor is thirty-five feet away.

Why in the world are they lying in this corner of the yard with the wind whistling around them?

I, being much more intelligent, scurried to take care of my errand and get back to my fire-side easy chair.  Warm.

Home and warm.

But, I sit beside my warm fire and absently-mindedly pursue an elusive shadow through the dark and chilly pathways of my memory.  Now, what was that?

Dogs lying outside the door waiting for their master. . .

Sleeping in the cold when they could have been home and warm. . .

David was a man after God’s own heart.  Now, where did that come from?  Ah!  Now, I have it!

Uriah (who was a fighting man from a pagan tribe) refused to go home to his warm bed and his waiting wife.  Uriah the Hittite waited outside the door of the king’s house—cold and sleepless.  (2 Samuel 11:9-13)

But, honorable.  

More honorable than the man who dwelled within, Uriah was certain that comfort was not his until all could live in comfort.  He would wait until he had completed his task.  An honorable man.

Almost like the dogs who lie outside my back door. Their allegiance is to their master. All they want is a word from his mouth and his hand gently scratching their chest.  

It is enough. Payment in full for waiting in the cold.

I like being home and warm. You? 

Stupid question, huh?

Comfort is what we want. But, we have no promise of comfort. Yet.

This world can be a cold place. Cold and dark.

Our destination is anything but those. If, as our lessons in science led us to believe, light produces heat, we’ll have no lack of either light or warmth there.

The One we serve is (unlike me—or King David) honorable far above our understanding. He won’t leave us out in the cold one moment past what is necessary.

One day—one day—the door will open and we’ll be home.  

Home and warm.

 

One day—one day—the door will open and we'll be home. Home and warm. Share on X

 

And the city has no need of sun or moon, for the glory of God illuminates the city, and the Lamb is its light.
(Revelation 21:23 ~ NLT)

 

Turn up the lights.  I don’t want to go home in the dark.
(O. Henry ~ American author ~ 1862-1910)

 

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2017. All Rights Reserved.