It happened.  As a mother of two energetic boys, I thought it might happen someday.  I just didn’t think someday would come so soon, so unexpectedly.  I knew the walls around my Fido-free heart were slowly eroding, but no one was more surprised than me when I responded positively to my husband’s announcement that he would like to give the boys a puppy for Christmas.  A puppy—on Christmas!  Oh my!  I couldn’t think of anything more exciting to give our boys.  I rushed out and bought the necessary puppy supplies, including the essential reindeer antlers headband.  I didn’t bother buying any books on puppy-raising—I figured those would just dampen my Christmas spirit.  For days, I couldn’t sleep; I was too excited rehearsing the big moment.  I thought this must be how God feels when He knows something amazing is around the corner for His children. 

On the morn of Christmas Eve my husband left before the sun rose to drive three hours to pick up the newest addition to our family—a three month old Golden Doodle.  When Matt returned home, he put the puppy in a crate on the front door and rang the doorbell.  From inside, I called to the boys to get the door.  Upon opening, their eyes popped out of their heads, they turned to each other, embraced and squealed in delight!  It was the exact reaction we had hoped for! 

For the next several days we were in puppy heaven.  My family was visiting from Canada so there were six adults to help keep a watchful eye.  Accidents were minimal and I thought, “Wow—we’ve got a smart puppy!  This is going to be easy.”  Then, six adults turned into four.  And a couple days later, four became two.  I noticed a mathematical trend--the number of accidents went up as the number of adults went down.   Then, two adults turned into one—me!  Accidents sky-rocketed and my patience and festive mood were leaking almost as much as the puppy.  I then began to think suspiciously about my husband’s choice of gifts to me on Christmas:  a new memory-foam pillow and pajamas.  Could it be that he anticipated a reduction in sleep quantity and therefore wanted to improve its quality? 

After just two days home alone with our puppy, I felt emotions I had experienced only briefly two other times in my life—after the births of my two sons.  Yep, I was suffering from Post Puppy Depression.  I went online to see if anyone else out there could feel my pain.  Sure enough—I was not alone!  While this knowledge of “shared experiences” was somewhat comforting, I knew no one would be sharing the freezing-middle-of-the-night jaunts outside, the sock-extraction routine, or the “I-hate-my-crate” whines.   I felt like crawling into the crate myself, locking the door, and waking up when puppy was a dog.  I wanted my home life to return to the way it was.  It wasn’t puppy’s fault; he was about as perfect as a puppy could be.  Even I could see that.  It was my fault.  I hadn’t counted the cost of puppy-ship. 

Sometimes the cost of following Christ is more than I bargained for, too.  What’s not to love about taking a dip in the sea of forgetfulness and the hope of eternal life?  And who can resist the little baby in a manger on Christmas?  But, what happens when the unexpected takes up residence?  Persecution.  Sacrifice.  Loneliness.  Really, these things shouldn’t be surprises.  Jesus warned us about all of this.  In fact, He practically guaranteed hardship(John 16:33).  But maybe instead of highlighting those red sections, we took out our sharpies, so as not to dampen our Christian spirit. 

Yet, if we’re going to enjoy the rewards of being a Christian, we need to accept the difficulties too.  The Christian life is not all a walk in the park.  Sometimes the challenges will present themselves at the most inopportune times and we’ll struggle to accept our new reality.  We may even be tempted to go back to our old lives. 

James 1:24 says, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds,because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.  Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

Perhaps, despite the barrage of Christmas card messages wishing you a prosperous New Year, 2013 isn’t measuring up.  Maybe what’s in your hand as this year unfolds isn’t a shiny award or a bigger pay check—maybe it’s a pooper-scooper.  Well, I’m right there with you.  It looks like we’ve got a choice to make.  We can consider our new reality a burden or we can consider it JOY.   If we choose joy, not only will I get to enjoy the benefits of ‘man’s best friend’ someday, but you and I will together enjoy the benefits of being mature and complete in Christ.  And it doesn’t get any better than that. 

It’s finally fall!  And where I live, in Columbus, Ohio, it means just one thing:  FOOTBALL!!  From now until the end of November, personal and family calendars will revolve around the Buckeyes’ schedule.  No plan will be made without first consulting it.  However, use of actual calendar dates when communicating will be unnecessary.  Buckeye fans will simply ask, “Hey, would you like to play golf the Monday after Purdue?”  Perhaps I exaggerate a tad.  In Columbus, it’s a given that if you’re not in “The Shoe” on Saturdays, you’re watching from tailgate central, your lazy-boy or your friends’ Buckeye basement.  On Bye-Week Saturday, the city will be abuzz in a completely different way.  Hair Salons will be swarming with giddy bridesmaids, and those who managed to not receive a wedding invitation, will be packed in line at the Home Depot, struggling to catch up on six weeks’ worth of house projects.   It’s just the way it is here in the Buckeye State.  And there’s really no point trying to beat it. 

I haven’t always been a Buckeye.  In fact, after spending thirty-one years in the Great White North, truth told, I couldn’t have cared less about College Football.  To the chagrin of my fellow Canadians, I wasn’t even much of a hockey fan.  Before marrying Matt, a Columbus native, I thought it was cute when he sent me a postcard of the celebrated “Shoe”, filled with more than 100,000 die-hard fans.  I had no idea he was opening his heart to me and prepping me for my soon-to-be reality. 

Matt and I were married in summertime.  By the time our cross-country move and honeymoon were over, it was almost football—I mean fall.  I knew Matt and I would be attending the first game of the season, but the snapshot in my mind was very different than the portrait in Matt’s.  On September 8, 2001, a beautiful fall Saturday, the alarm went off at 6:00 am and my newlywed husband sprang out of bed like a kid headed to Disney.  “Whatcha doin’”, I asked.  “I thought the game didn't start until noon.”  “It doesn’t,” he said.  “But, we have to get to my parents’ by 7:00 am so we can get our tailgate site and a good seat at the band show.”  Now I was worried.  Tailgate? Band show?  “You mean this is an ALL day affair?”  I had never heard of such a thing.  Trying to be a good wife, I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower and tried to wash away the apprehension I felt.  It wasn’t apprehension about a football game.  It was apprehension about being immersed into a culture to which I did not belong.  I wondered if accepting the new culture would somehow force me to give up who I’d been my whole life.  When I returned to the bedroom, I noticed that Matt had laid out for me a Buckeye necklace to wear.  A sweet gesture but it also served as a reminder that I was a foreigner—an alien. 

There were many other reminders of my alien status during my first year of marriage. Sometimes the pressure I felt as an “outsider” was so great that I couldn’t help but long for the day I could return to visit my homeland.  Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows, not only your name, but your culture as well. 

This must have been how Jesus felt growing up in Galilee—only to a much greater and more important degree.  He had been in heaven with God before there was time.  He had only known beauty, perfection, and purity.  Now, thrust to earth to walk among sinful man, He must have felt like the proverbial fish out of water.  This world was not His home, yet He was placed here by His Father to fulfill His destiny.  I’m so grateful He didn’t grow weary of being an outsider.  I’m so glad He didn’t give up His God-culture for an earthly one.  Instead, He demonstrated He was fully God and fully man. 

Eleven years into marriage, I can say that I have adjusted to Buckeye culture.  At times I have even found myself alone on a football Saturday, checking the score.  But when it comes to this world, I hope I never get too comfortable.  This world is just a stop, a blip on the radar of Life.  “But our citizenship is in heaven.  And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ,” (Philippians 3:20)