Take Blue With You
It was a beautiful summer morning. Clear sky, cool, dry air that would warm nicely as the sun continued to
After breakfast and chores my older brother, Preston, and a few of our friends were heading out to explore the opening to a cave we had
found in a canyon a mile or so from our house. It must have looked like a scene from a movie as six young boys, all around 12-15 years headed out to the pasture armed with BB guns, shovels and
pick-axes to open what we were sure would be a cave full of wonder. We had heard bats inside the cave and just needed to make the opening a little bigger. Unfortunately for us, (but fortunate in
another way), they had quit keeping dynamite at the ranch years before, so we were left to dig the opening by hand.
As we left the house, dad told us to take Blue with us. Blue was our big Australian Shepherd and as long as we had Blue with us mom and
dad felt a little safer.
There really weren't too many dangerous critters around, rattlesnakes and the occasional javelina, but mom and dad knew that Blue was
very protective of us kids and would keep everything away from us. And he did. If horses, sheep, cows got to close, Blue would chase them off. He did find rattlesnakes as well as coons, possum,
porcupines and, quite frequently, skunks. He would bark or growl and we would know to stay away. So dad always made sure we took Blue with us.
I thought about Blue the other day when I was thinking about the need to take Jesus with us every day. Then it dawned on me that we don't
need to 'take' him; he's already with us. It's not that we forget to take him, we just forget that he's already there. And since we forget he's there, we forget to listen to him. He doesn't growl or
bark when danger is around, but we've all felt that tug at us just before we do something wrong. His Spirit lets us know, but so often we are lost in our own project, our own treasure cave digging,
that we forget he's there and we ignore his warning. Then we wonder where those porcupine quills came from or why we smell like skunk. Or worse yet, how we ended up in this den of