Hello, Friends!
       Some of you may already be weary of hearing John and me talk about our new four-legged kid, Ivin the Great, as the vet tech noted his name on the chart this week.
       We are self-confessed fools for love over this puppy, so I’m afraid this may not be the last time he gets mentioned here, in conversation, maybe even from the pulpit.
       The truth is, this young one has brought enormous delight and all kinds of new perspective into our lives.  As you’ve heard me say often in this space and on Sunday morning (and just about everywhere I get to say anything), nothing is more important than our being compassionately conscious.  And nothing opens our avenues to awakeness like a new love relationship.
       So here are a couple of tidbits of juicy awareness, courtesy of Ivin.   We’d love him even if he weren’t Molly’s granddog, but he is, and it really does seem as if her indomitable spirit lives on in our connection through this furry, big-footed, high-energy, irrepressible guy.
       A few days ago, I heard him under our bed, gnawing away on something that didn’t sound at all like a puppy-appropriate chew toy.   So I called his name, and he came crawling out with said object in his mouth, put it down on my feet, and grinned at me (yes, dogs do grin, and they mean it).
      The object of his oral interest turned out to be one of Molly’s books, given to us by her friend Courtney.  Its title had been “Nothing But Good Times Ahead,” but thanks to Ivin’s adaptation, was now reduced to its hopeful essence—“Good Times Ahead.”
       The combination of his playful grin, the words before me on the book’s spine, and the delight I  believe Molly would take in her book’s fate, all had me laughing out loud before I’d even had a full cup of morning coffee—not a bad way to wake up, right?
      Then there was the gift from Courtney to Ivin, of a handsome black leather collar decorated with silver Texas stars.   She had found it in a drawer of miscellaneous keepsakes, and remembered its history.
       Molly had bought it for Courtney’s retriever, Robert Redford, and it was too small for him, so it stayed in the drawer, until the other day.   Now Ivin really looks the part of a true Texan, and we all know how much that mattered to Molly.
     We expats from other regions  can claim something like “naturalized” status, but Ivin’s a native, and now he has a gift from his “grandma” to prove it.  And every time we take note of that collar, we can remember its source, and smile.
       On Trinity Sunday I referenced Molly’s life and legacy as proof of the enduring power of holy creativity, compassion, and energy that can last beyond a lifetime, in what gets passed along and translated into loving action.
       Ivin helps John and me remember how great it is to be alive in the moment, and how valuable it is to appreciate and stay true to our roots, the essence of what matters—laughter, love, integrity, courage, grit and grace—Molly’s gifts to all of us, and her living legacy’s blessing and charge.     I look forward to laughing and living with you this Sunday, and all our days to come.
 
Shalom,
Sarah