Today, my dog Mikey ate a big cube of rat poison. Here’s what to do when you come across this situation.

Step 1: Force feed dog about half a cup of hydrogen peroxide to induce vomiting.

Step 2: Take dog to the vet right away for blood tests, a vitamin K shot and a prescription for daily doses of vitamin K for the next month.

Step 3: Pay the $400 tab and reluctantly try and accept that you probably can’t afford to keep the dog you’ve had just long enough to fall in love with.

I think that about covers it. I hope this doesn’t happen to you or your dog. Best solution, just don’t have rat poison around anywhere ever.

For my family, Christmas eve is a busy holiday. There is a traditional meal we eat together and almost always have somewhere between 20-25 guests to join us. It may not seem like that many, but consider that we squeeze around a single table. A sit down meal for that many people is undeniably a production.

It’s always a meal our family looks foreword to, but this year it was far less than enjoyable for me. I’ve had a bit of a health scare. Apparently an unexpected cocktail of over-the-counter drugs left me with really high blood pressure, nearly losing consciousness, extremely light-headed, and seriously spaced out.

I ended up having to sleep through dinner and missing the festivities, which was disappointing, but I definitely didn’t want to get out if bed. Every so often one of my family members would come and check on me and see that I was alright, and whether I needed anything. Over the course of a few hours, my whole family had been through to see how I was doing. My brother-in-law even came and hung out with me for a bit.

It reminded me, this morning around 10 as I was getting ready for the day, I thought to myself, somewhere, there’s someone who’s already begun drinking to dull the depression. Somewhere, there’s someone who’s begun a drug bender that isn’t likely to end until the new year. Somewhere there’s someone waking up and wishing he could just sleep through the next two days. After being incapacitated and sick all night, it got me thinking what a privilege it is to have a family that really is knit together and cares about one another—especially during the holidays.

So, my prayer tonight on Christmas Eve, the night before we celebrate our savior’s birth, is that God would visit those who are hurting. Those who have no one—no comfort. That he would be their comfort, and in their misery, reveal himself as the only worthy object of their whole affection.

I don’t notice when I’m not sick. Inevitably, at least once a year, I think to myself, “Gosh Bill, you’re practically always sick.” This is usually during the worst of a bad cold or, at worst, the flu.

Well, last week I was sick. Then I started to get better. Now, I’m sick again. As I was laying down this evening to take a nap, I caught myself in that annual thought, thinking, “Gosh Bill, you’re always sick! What gives?” Then it occurred to me what was really going on. I only notice when I’m sick. I never lay healthy in my bed at night thinking, "boy it sure is nice to be healthy.”

From that, I thought about spiritual health. Most of the time, if I’m doing “well”, I don’t even notice. Sure, I stick to the basic spiritual disciplines, but my heart only kind of goes into it. But, in the times of struggle—apparent struggle—that’s when the spiritual disciplines I stick to really mean something.

It would seem that the reality is that in times of struggle and (seemingly) uphill battles with sin, the weak but real dependence on God is far greater and stronger and better than all the self-sustained “healthy times” combined. In fact, the times of potent reliance on God because of some trouble—even when I myself am the cause—is usually the real health.

I suppose the real difficulty is in learning to embrace times of difficulty, allowing holiness to grow from it—all the while, not slipping back into spiritual “health”.

A good friend went to the hospital this afternoon with appendicitis. After about 13 hours in the emergency room, they finally carted him into surgery to remove his appendix. Another friend, who’d been with him since he’d shown was feeing anxious. So, we went for a stroll through the hospital. Before long, we found ourselves in the “healing garden”. Basically, just a well groomed area just outside the hospital which was lined with benches.

It seems to me that if they have a healing garden, they ought to be taking patients out there. Then again, maybe that’s why I’m not a doctor.

In any case, we sat down on a bench, on the the back of which was an all weather notebook attached with a steel cable. It’s a notebook intended for patients and loved ones to open and write thoughts and feelings in. A little sticker on the front also let us know that it was also a publishing resource for the KGS corporation. On the last filled out page of the notebook an anonymous writer named Tom shared these thoughts:

“The will God will never take you where the grace of God will not protect you.”

There’s almost no doubt in my mind that Tom got that advice from some author. But, regardless of where he found it or if he thought it up himself—for believers—the sentiment is true. In fact, it’s that very sentiment, rooted in the finished work of Christ, that allows the believer to keep moving foreword. To seek harder obedience. To love God more completely.

Because of Christ we can know without a doubt that what God requires of us will not destroy us. That is excellent news. Thank you Tom for the reminder. But back to the story of my friend in the hospital. He was slated to leave for a mission trip to India in just six days. That’s not going to happen now. I see this saying as speaking to this situation in two ways.

1.It is clear from this ailment that God has other plans.
2.God’s other plans are here.

God would not allow him to go and do something both honorable and something he desired to do, and yet perhaps that was his grace that he will not. We cannot know what might have happened if he went, but we can be sure that it is better that he doesn’t.

Isn’t the will of a sovereign, yet loving, God comforting? I think so.