In some parts of the world, dogs are work animals. They are used to hunt and pull sleds and guard and guide. If you were to ask the Budster what he did yesterday and he compared himself with work animals, he’d probably say, “Nothin’.”
And you’d say, “Surely you had to have done something. What was it?”
“I just napped and ate and napped and went outside and napped. That’s all.”
The Duchess and Mumford would give you the same answer but they did so much more than nothin’ at all. They gave me a good reason to get up in the morning and they spent the day looking cute and adorable and in the evening, they said, “Hey dad, we love you. Let’s do this again tomorrow.”
It only looks like they did nothin’ if you compare what they did to an incorrect standard. Our dogs do other stuff just as important as work dogs.
It’s been a long several weeks for me mostly because the office is in an uproar. Those silly people really get wound up about much of nothin’ and I just can’t bring myself to get all worked up like they do. Oh, I used to. Back in the day when I compared myself to my peers in the corporate world, I thought those things mattered. I was wound tight and was difficult to be around. I was a corporate gunslinger back then. I’d strap on my irons, kick open the doors to the saloon and straighten things out. One day I woke up and asked the big question, “Who cares?” and no one answered. Nary a voice was heard because after the big project are completed, the blood mopped up and the casualties well hidden, no one cares. The executives get a big fat bonus and shareholders receive their dividend and the sun rises and sets on another day and nobody will remember a thing that we have done. They won’t even remember our names.
I remember one year the firm I was with lost three consultants. Two died of heart attacks and one of cancer. After a rousing days on the corporate battlefield, two went home, sat down and died. Nobody cared except their wives. Those two guys were in their early forties. Graveyard dead. Shortly thereafter, another consultant died of brain cancer. At least he reached the ripe old age of fifty before his star exploded.
So back to my ‘Who cares’ story. I was sitting next to a campfire when I first asked myself that question. We had recently moved to the country and we spent our days clearing the land and our nights exhausted and relaxing until we fell asleep, which didn’t take long. When that season of strenuous repose had passed and it was time to look for a job, I decided not to return to the grist mill of consulting. Eventually, work ran out on a couple other jobs I had and I went back to consulting only this time, my priorities were different. I could no longer care about the things I was expected to. I could no longer be the gunslinger that I had been in times past. So now the wild west is in an uproar, fires are a’burnin’ and cattle are stampedin’, men are shoutin’. women are faintin’ and babies are cryin’ and I don’t care because it doesn’t matter. Not much does when you get right down to it. Since the epiphany I had beside the campfire, I ain’t done nothin’ if you were to compare me to the cannibals that I work with. I put in my time, I make them a lot of money and I go home where life is real.
19 Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal:
20 But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal:
21 For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.
No one remembers the names of those three hot shot consultants who died within months of each other. The impossible they did for the ungreatful didn’t earn them a single star in their crown. All of the hard work and stress was for nought. All of those sleepless nights and ulcers and yelling at the wife and kids was a total waste of life. The treasure was laid up in the wrong place.
I’ve watched people die and I’ve watched animals die and there’s really not that much difference between them. A life comes to an end and they are never ever coming back. It will or at least it should have an impact on you because it matters. Life matters because it is so short and death matters because it is the ultimate truth. When we’re dead, there are no more games, no more lies, no more misunderstanding. When we take our last breath our record of accomplishments will stand for eternity. We will stand before the Father and He will look in His book and say, “Let’s see what you have done.” I’ll have to tell Him, “I didn’t do nothin'” because even as I look back now, that’s what it seems like.
Maybe you have laid up a treasure on this earth. If so, that’s time wasted and it doesn’t count. Only what you’ve done for God will last. Do the right thing. It may not seem like much at the time but the simple things can have a ripple effect through eternity.
And whoever gives only a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple, I tell you the truth, he will never lose his reward.”
When Ruger or Annie or Jazz or Sadie or the Duchess or the Budster or (keep adding names) stands before God and says, “I didn’t do nothin'” God will smile and say, “Wanna bet?”
When you face the ultimate Truth and you say, I have done nothin’ maybe He’ll smile and say, “Come here, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”