The Simple Life
June 30, 2009

Studies by the NIMH tell us that almost 1 in 5 people has an anxiety disorder. Whether it’s a specific phobia or just a free-floating sense of worry, 18.1% of people this year will deal with worry that is so severe it will disrupt their lives.
Even if you don’t fit in to the 1/5 who could be clinically diagnosed, you probably have some worries and anxieties that bother you from time to time. There is no shortage of “cures” out there today for anxiety… from dietary modifications to exercise programs, from counseling to yoga, from self-help books to medications. However, I’ve found that one of the most effective cures for my anxiety licks my feet every morning. It’s Marley, my dog.
And I’m not alone in benefitting from a four-legged friend. Check out what Donald Miller says about his dog, Lucy, in his upcoming book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, which is set to come out on Sept. 2.
I’ve noticed they don’t make self-help books for dogs. Lucy just is, and she’s fantastic at it. I can’t say for sure, but I don’t think she ponders a better way to be a dog. Dogs don’t read books about how to be dogs. They say humans are the most evolved of animals, and I suppose our bridges and furniture prove this to be true, but sometimes when I watch Lucy look for the toy I’ve hidden, her little body joggling behind her wide eyes, I wish life could be so pleasurable for the rest of us.
It’s harder being a human than it is being a dog. When I’m at the dog park, I never know what to say to the other dog owners. We’re all there so our dogs can exercise, but the awkward conversation kills me. The other day I asked what kind of dog one of the owners had and they said something, and then I asked the other and they said their dog was a Lab like mine. I said Lucy looked like a seal when she’s wet and her ears are pinned back, but nobody laughed. And I stood there feeling uncomfortable while our dogs sniffed each other’s poop without the slightest hint of self-awareness.
And part of me feels like God is more pleased with the dogs’ interaction than He is with ours, as though they are the ones having fun with the scenes He gave them, and we are still trying to figure it out.
Who would have thought that the great Donald Miller would struggle in social situations? But, time and time again in this book he opens his life enough to let us see that even famous authors struggle with worries about the future, worries about their success, worries about what other people think, and on and on the list goes.
Maybe he’s right, though. Maybe dogs understand living better than we do. Cats have got it down. The birds get it.
Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? (Matt. 6:26, NIV)
Next time you’re overcome with worry, learn from the birds. Take notes on how your neighbor’s cat can play in the backyard for hours. Borrow a page from your dog’s playbook. Go for a ride, and watch the sheer joy of a puppy with his head out the window, tongue flapping in the wind. Could this be what God wants for His children too? Marley says, “Yes!!!”




I love church signs… love to make fun of them, that is. Don’t get me wrong. I bet there are good intentions behind these cheesy messages. I’d just like to know what the point is.
I got a postcard in the mail today. A local politician probably spent a good deal of money to get it into lots of people’s mailboxes. His goal was obvious: “Vote for me! Vote for me! Vote for me!”



