Myah

“‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.’”

Jeremiah 29:11

Jeremiah. Myah.

My life verse is Jeremiah 29:11. When I was growing up, life verses were not the things they are today. At least not that I remember. But my youth group leader gave me a small card, with a forest green mat frame around it, with Jeremiah 29:11 written on it in a fancy font. And that verse stuck with me. It was my verse.

I kept that card until it fell apart during one of my many moves as an adult. But I will never forget the intention that came with the verse. The words of truth being spoken over me during those pivotal junior high years.

Jeremiah. Myah.

So when we got our dog last spring, I named her Myah. I would love to say I came up with the clever idea of naming her after my life verse. But I am not clever when it comes to things like that. Oh, I am clever. Just naming things in not necessarily my skill set.

Eric and I had a dog once. We walked into a pet store a year and a half into our marriage and saw the cutest puppy. And we walked out of the store with what would be the second most expensive impulse buy of our now almost 18 year marriage. He was the most adorable ball of white fur that was full of energy and refused to be potty trained but would instead pee on me every single evening when I got home from work. We had him a month. After which we paid even more money to adopt him out from an adoption shelter. He was snatched up within a few days by, I am sure, a family with a big yard and lots of kids to keep him busy.

But that experience made me question if I ever even wanted to have kids. Because, if I could not handle a dog, how in the world could I ever handle a baby. Luckily, I didn’t feel that way too long. You’re welcome, Kylie and Kaleb.

So flash forward through years of the kids begging for a dog. Kylie actually created a PowerPoint presentation as to why we should get a dog at one point. And Eric went to work in the pet products industry. And Kaleb. Kaleb would randomly burst into one of his persuasive speeches as to why we needed a dog, complete with multiple reasons and a “this is why we need a dog” ending. Thank you, Mrs. Kubik, for enhancing his persuasive skills in fourth grade.

Then last spring. It finally hit me. We needed a dog. Between Eric’s travel schedule and my new fear of running alone, a dog seemed like the most logical answer. And I was finally ready to try this dog thing again.

I didn’t mention it anyone. Especially the kids. If you even breathed the word dog in our house, the kids would jump on the internet searching for dogs on shelter websites or something just to argue over what kind of dog they each wanted. So I kept it to myself.

But a few days later, I got a text.

“So what kind of dog do you want?”

It came from my best friend. Who happens to be a huge dog lover. Who also happens to be that fourth grade teacher who honed Kaleb’s persuasive skills. Who just also happens to know things in an unexplainable way.

So we went back and forth about dogs. The best kind for running. For kids. For calming. For all the things.

And a few days after that. Another text.

“So how soon do you want a dog?”

How soon? I haven’t even talked to Eric yet! Because that whole thing about even whispering about dogs anywhere near the kids and setting them off on a dog searching frenzy. I wasn’t about to start that until I was absolutely sure about this dog thing.

But in a whirlwind discussion as we walked around the Renaissance Fair because, of course, we weren’t even at home. And multiple texts back and forth with a picture of the most adorable black lab mix puppy. This lead to our family going to meet a dog and overnight deciding that this was the dog for us.

So little Myah. I say little because she is now, 6 months later, 55 pounds and a huge dog. Little Myah came home with me and joined our family.

We have had some interesting times these last 6 months. Like when she ate slime. Or the numerous times she has run off with someone’s dinner. Stolen off the plate. Or ate through the fence. That was just this week.

But there were other times. The time she laid on my feet for hours, calming my anxiety. Or the short runs we go on, so I can run by myself again. Or the times she laid next to her boy when he was home sick. Or wrestles with her girl, fighting for a stuffed animal. Or when she follows Eric around the house.

God brought Myah to us. Each step was a divine appointment. From a text. To a walk. To each of us opening our hearts to try something new and challenging. Because getting a puppy IS challenging.

Jeremiah. Myah. A hope. She has brought some hope to our family.