Is it not crazy how people can experience the exact same event and walk away with completely different versions of what happened? The whole ordeal with Oscar, my miniature dachshund, and a baby bear unfolded in a matter of seconds. My husband, Tim, saw that things were under control. I saw Oscar and me face-to-face with what might as well have been a 500-pound bear, standing on its hind legs, ready to swing the first punch! Same event. Same characters. Totally different perspectives. Thankfully, the latest terror who has joined our family wasn’t outside with me at that moment. As if caring for one mini-dachshund wasn’t exciting enough, we went and added another one to the family.
Yep, you read correctly. There’s a new puppy in my house. My perspective on things? Oscar, our eleven-year-old mini-dachshund, needed a friend. I was reminiscing about the days when Oscar and our late Ginger would run through the yard. Oscar, with the zoomies, would run wide open while Ginger would do her best to keep up. Ginger was about eleven years older than Oscar. And, I saw how Oscar literally brought Gin back to life, back to her good ole days of youth.
Now you see, don’t you, where my genius idea came from to get another puppy? I love Oscar more than any human should love an animal. I see him aging, and I know one day I may have to say goodbye. And if getting him a friend can extend those years even the slightest bit, then I’m getting him a friend!
What I’ve really done here is cause Oscar and me a whole lot of chaos! Lazy summer days haven’t happened at my house this summer. This little munchkin requires my total attention. If she isn’t biting me, then she’s biting something else she shouldn’t be… including Oscar. Who, by the way, only decided about 24 hours ago that he might tolerate her. Tolerate. Friendship is still in question. And don’t even get me started on pooping and peeing. Can someone please invent doggie diapers that work like baby diapers!
We named the little terror Olive. Oscar and Olive. Sounds cute, right? Can “cute” and “destructive” be used in the same description? Most of the time, we call her Ollie. Unless I’m upset with her, which tends to happen a lot. Then, I call her Ollieween. Kind of like when we parents get frustrated with our kiddos and throw that middle name in there when we call out to them. I even came up with my own version of Dolly Parton’s hit Jolene. Except in my version, the one causing all the trouble is my Ollieween. Maybe I’ll sing it for you sometime.😲
Tim fought the perspective of getting another dog very hard. In fact, I think he tossed in the towel after two years of hearing me harp on Oscar’s need for a friend. Sometimes I wish he had fought harder and not thrown in the towel. LOL! The funny thing about this is that Tim is so much better with Ollie than I am. One would think that since I was the one insisting on getting her, I would be better with her. Maybe Tim is better with Ollie because he has a different perspective on her than I currently have. He sees her as lovable, squishy, sweet, and precious. I see her as a constant bitting, pooping, and peeing mess-pot.
Perspective shapes everything.
My perspective, how I see the world, influences not just how I interpret the events around me but also my attitude, my reaction, the decisions I make, and even the relationships I form. The way I interpreted the bear incident with Oscar influenced my reaction to scream and run wildly toward the baby bear. My perspective was laser-focused on one thing… saving Oscar. Tim’s perspective on the bear incident: Well, he thought I was warding off another dog. LOL! That’s how small he says the bear was. In my mind, it was a bear. Does size really matter? HAHA
There’s a powerful story about perspective in 2 Kings 6:8-23 involving a man named Elisha. As a little girl (and still now as a middle-aged lady), I always confuse Elisha and Elijah. I know one of them went up to heaven in a whirlwind with “a chariot of fire and horses of fire” (2 Kings 2:11, NIV), but I can never get the name right without looking it up. Elisha (not the one who went out in a whirlwind) ruffled the feathers of the king of Aram. The king was at war with Israel, but he could never get the upper hand because Elisha was telling the king of Israel every move the king of Aram would make. It was so bad that the king of Aram thought for sure he had a spy in his army. Once his military men told him that Elisha was causing all his problems, the king of Aram ordered his men to find and capture Elisha.
The men of Aram traveled during the night to where Elisha was. Now, this king didn’t send just a few men to take Elisha; he sent “horses and chariots and a strong force there.” That tells me the king of Aram knew Elisha would be a challenge. I wonder, too, if the Aram king had some fear in him.
Morning came, and a servant who was with Elisha hit the panic button. When he looked out, he saw that an army with horses and chariots had gathered all around them, and he cried out, “Oh no, my lord!”
Oh no? Really? I think my words might have been somewhat different from the servant’s. But Elisha simply said, “Don’t be afraid. Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.” Elisha had a completely different perspective from the servant. The servant’s perspective, I’m afraid, might mirror my perspective. Oftentimes in life, I find myself throwing up the “Oh no, my Lord!” hands because I’m afraid. I’m scared because I’m looking with limited perspective, limited focus, and limited faith.
Long story short, Elisha prayed for the Lord to open the servant’s eyes so he could see “the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.” God had sent an army of heavenly warriors to protect Elisha. Elisha asked God to blind the men from Aram, and Elisha led them to Samaria. Once there, Elisha directed the king of Israel to provide the soldiers with food and water. When they finished, the soldiers were to go back to their king in Aram. After this, “the bands from Aram stopped raiding Israel’s territory.”
In each of these stories, there are so many perspectives to consider… Tim, Oscar, the bear, Ollie, the military men, the Aram king, the Samaritan king, the servant, Elisha, and me. Some of the viewpoints are rooted in fear; others in faith, yet all of them reveal something worth noticing.
The bear learned Oscar’s mama is a wild, crazy woman. “Stay away from that house because she will run, scream, and wave her arms frantically at you.” I learned it might have been better to have bought Oscar a stuffed animal. The servant learned that just because he didn’t physically see God didn’t mean God wasn’t there. I need that reminder just as much as the servant. When my eyes fix on only what I can see, fear then has a way of just taking over my story. My eyes go straight to whatever feels like the “army surrounding me”—health concerns, finances, family issues, work, and all the unexpected things that can go awry in a split second. And just like that, fear magnifies a baby bear, instantly transforming it into a 500-pound bear.
Instead of reacting like the servant and focusing only on what surrounds me, I want to learn to see what Elisha saw—the God who is always surrounding me. My situation may never change. But my perspective certainly can, and sometimes, that can change everything.
*Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are taken from the New International Version (NIV).