My dog hasn’t learned to “drop it” yet. Neither have I.
On this morning’s dog walk, as I was pondering the immense blessing I have for this season of time to exercise my contemplative side, my furry friend violently yanked me back to reality. She sniffed something irresistible, nearly pulled my right arm off, and before I could say “drop it” inhaled what appeared to be a hot dog. Then, as any good dog-Mom would do, I started worrying what it was that she really ate. Why, oh why, hadn’t we practiced the drop it drills to be ready for such an occasion?
Then again, learning to drop it would be useful for me too. If I could say “drop it” to that handful of late-night cashews the scale would move in the right direction. I could even vary it and say “put that down right this minute” to the unnecessary worries I carry around. If I could say “let’s drop it for now and talk about it later,” a misunderstanding wouldn’t escalate to an argument.
On a positive note, “drop it” can be a helpful command to have more fun. Our daughter occasionally will say, “Oh, Mom, can’t you just stop what you’re doing and have some fun with me?” That request gets me every time and I do stop to giggle, play a game, admire her drawings, blow bubbles — all the things that give life such joy.
Let me drop all (or at least more of) the bad stuff and pick up the good. Ephesians 4: 31-32 reminds us, “Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, clamor, and evil speaking be put away from you, with all malice. And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you.”
I’ll practice that today. Then I may search for how to train my dog to drop it.
Blessings and kind regards to you all.