Pets enter our lives for a season. When my dad was dying, and I was raw with emotion, a surly cat entered my life. He provided comfort in times of gloom and lashed out at others who got too close. Even though he let some trusted friends into our world, he continuously seemed to embody the underlying currents of my mood during that turbulent time. My dog entered my life during a time of isolation and loneliness. His warm and inviting countenance drew others close. He seemed to always know who needed his peaceful presence in a given moment. He was content to settle his rhythm to the tone of our family life, be it resting by the fire or embarking on a grand adventure. We named him Kairos (God’s Time) as an act of thanksgiving that he came to us at the right time and to remind us to be patient and wait for God’s timing. Recently, as I said goodbye to our dear friend, his name took on a deeper significance, reminding us that God’s time also includes a period of letting go.
This Lent, the theme of “letting go” has weighed heavy in my prayer. I found plenty of superficial attachments that needed to be released to make more room for Christ. I made many internal commitments to this process of letting go, yet when this was all put to the test as Kairos was called home, I struggled to unfurl my fists. Letting go of Kairos felt like letting go of a season of life, of my son's boyhood, of halcyon times snuggled at the hearth. Other seasons of letting go quickly came to mind. Letting go of Dad, my twins, and grandparents, letting go of homes, towns, friends, jobs, and dreams. All these moments lingered in my soul, swirling about. I felt untethered. I then remembered that each of these seasons left me with an open dependence on the Lord. In each period of grief, I was raw, yes, but reliant on God in that very rawness.
Through prayer, I re-rooted myself in Christ and soothed myself with a litany of “blessed be the Lord…the peace in my soul is from the Lord…blessed be the Lord… the peace in my soul is from the Lord…” I hoped that if my mind said it enough, my heart would comply. I allowed Christ to move my heart into a space of gratitude, gratitude for all that Kairos was and all the joy he brought us. I recalled a passage from the Art of Raising a Puppy by the Monk’s of New Skete. They wrote:
“A puppy’s life clearly displays what characterizes the whole life: the mystery of development. The entire universe, it seems, is in a continuous process of growth that extends from before the first moments of each individual existence to the end of life and beyond. Nothing is excluded from this movement, though our own consciousness of its breadth can be dulled by the chaotic pace of our modern living. Too often, we take this journey for granted, carelessly letting it pass unacknowledged. With our busy lives, we can easily grow insensitive to the basic wonder of life, leaving us spiritually impoverished and unhappy. This is perhaps why animals (particularly our dogs) are so important to us and why we benefit from their companionship: they root us in life. Part of the joy of raising a puppy is the very concrete way it puts us in touch with the process of existence and the natural world around us. Watching the pup grow takes us outside ourselves and helps reestablish our own capacity for appreciation and wonder[1].”
That was Kairos’s task on earth. To help re-root me, my son, my husband, and all who knew him to the beauty of life in this world. It was a passing season, as is all existence in this world. It was a crescendo and a glimpse of the joys to come.
The knowledge that all things in this life must come to an end forms a strong fiber woven into the fabric of a life deeply entrenched in love. The youthful spirit sometimes rebels against this reality, but this is life! In his reflections on the role of the talking cricket in Pinocchio, Franco Nembrini echoed this truth deeply as he shared:
“Life presses and wounds us; it is made up of wonderful and good things that we know will end; it is made up of contradictions, and pain, and of awaiting great, infinite goodness. And in our heart (that is our reason, spirit, or soul) is the demand for an explanation, our quest for meaning in this muddle that is life. The talking-cricket is the voice of this request.”
The talking-cricket, or voice of the heart, speaks through the pains of loss and breaths in a new hope. As I learn to let go of the current season, I can allow my heart to be freely open to the road ahead, in God’s time, awaiting His will for that road —a mix of love, joy, and sacrifice, preparing me with hope rooted in the Kingdom to come.
