Dad and I went tonight to the second of four classes in a continuing educaion course on Biblical archeology. The classes are being held at a local church. When we arrived, a child, about 11 years old, stood in the door, blocking the way. "What you want me to do with your dog?" I was not ready for this. I had had a seizure in the afternoon and was still struggling to maintain awareness of my surroundings and which side was left and which was right, keep myself from falling on the ice, etc. I asked him to repeat himself, and he did. "What you want me to do with your dog?"
I was shocked. I didn't know what he meant. Was he proposing to take Meghan away, put her somewhere? Was he trying to say that I couldn't come into the church with her?
Dad said, "Just let us in." I pushed past the child; and Dad gave me directions to the staircase leading up to the sanctuary.
The child said, "You can't take that dog in here."
"Yes, she can," Dad said. "It goes wherever she goes."
Another child, about six or seven years old, said, "She can't see! That dog has to go with her!"
But the damage was already done. I was already fighting off the urge to turn away and go home, assuming that I was unwelcome because I am led by a dog. I was already pushing away the tears because I had come here to listen to teaching. It had not started yet; but everyone was singing so joyfully! I had gotten in, hadn't I? Continuing to be emotional about this would only have been "obsessive." But I had been pushed away from the house of God! And it was wrong! Thankfully, I understand that He exists and loves me even though I cannot see Him. Many people don't. They go away without ever meeting Him. That child at the front door could be the first Jesus they meet!
Thank You, God, for loving me no matter how I come to You. And thank You, Dad, for going with me and making it possible for me to enter the house of God.