I took my rescued border collie, Hank (yes, like the cow-dog!), kayaking for the first time today.  So many things scare him that I wasn’t certain how he would do, but he jumped right on the boat and settled in like he knew exactly what he was doing!

As we were first floating around in a shallow area so I could be sure he was okay to go into deeper water, we came across a family swimming in the clear waters just below Barton Springs.  The youngest girl wanted to pet Hank, so her mother held her up to him. 

Hank is affectionate, but I’ve never, *ever* seen him respond as he did.  He first licked the little girl a few times and then stretched as far as he could off of the boat to the mother and absolutely covered her surprised face with gentle kisses.  Watching him continue to kiss her I said, “Wow…”, but before I could say anything else, I realized the mom had big tears in her eyes. 

She took a deep breath and, when she could speak, she said, “Our dog died this morning, and he must sense it.  Thank you, Hank.  Thank you…”  I just kept quiet and let him do the pastoral work as he and the woman loved on each other.  

We said our goodbyes, and as we paddled away into deeper waters, I had to wonder, if dogs can be open and sensitive enough to notice the pain of others, why can’t we?  It was a humbling reminder of all the times I’m too distracted, too busy with “important” things, too caught up in my own struggles to notice that someone needs a gentle smile, a quiet hug, or some simple acknowledgment of their pain. 

In Matthew 25 we read, “For I was hungry, and you gave me food, thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.”

Then the righteous will say, “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink?  When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you?  When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?”

And the Lord will say to them, “Surely I say to you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers (or sisters!) of mine you did for me!”  

May we remember to be open to the divine, and the all-too-human and frail, in those around us and use whatever simple gifts we have to offer them a moment of peace.