After family evening prayers, my son Andrew often takes our dog out for a nightly stroll. Their moonlit walk in our quiet neighborhood usually relaxes both boy and dog, but Monday evening was a traumatic exception.

As they silently lumbered up a little hill a block away from home, Andrew heard the rush of paws approaching at a furious pace. He turned in the dark to briefly glimpse a powerful dog that lunged on our little sheltie, bit into her side, and shook her back and forth.

Being a brave and burly guy, Andrew was able to fight the dog, disengage it, and toss it aside, but the dog landed on its feet and attacked again. This time, Andrew grabbed its collar, pulled the dog away, and pinned its muscular writhing body to the ground with his knee as it growled with rage. Meanwhile our dog, although she did fight back a little bit, had been screaming in pain from the attack and bites. Free from the other dog, she whimpered while cowering behind Andrew. The attack dog’s owner appeared just then and apologetically took charge of her dog while Andrew rushed home, carrying the bleeding victim.

This dog attack was an unforeseen event that each person in my family had to deal with. My husband reacted by researching how to care for our dog. He remained calm and reasonable while caring for her injuries. Andrew was traumatized, but still thoughtful enough that when he had to ask that dog’s owner about the status of her dog’s rabies shots, he also cared about how her dog was recovering after the fight.

Worry that we would lose our doggy mixed with anger that someone could be so careless with her “it’s not a pit bull even though it looks just like one” kind of dog were my first concerns. I was ready to call the police and lodge a complaint. If this had happened when I was walking our dog, I wouldn’t have been able to fight off such a large dog and my dog would be dead.

Losing my dog is an upsetting thought. We got our Sheltie a few weeks after our daughter died of cancer. We named her Hope because she was symbolic of us reaching towards healing by letting someone new into our lives. Hope has been my companion for ten loyal years, and she has welcomed our adopted kids into the family and been a source of solace to each of them just as she is to me. A gentle but playful dog, she is talented at leave it and take it and has never hurt anyone.

How can I believe that a raging loose dog attacking sweet gentle Hope was an event sent by God?

When the vet called us, I was afraid of the words I might hear. Many devastating conversations with doctors during my daughter’s cancer treatments have left me cognizant that doctors can say very hard things. Thankfully, the vet said Hope’s chances of recovery are pretty good.  She had a lot of bruising and two ugly puncture wounds but doesn’t appear to have internal damage. 

After speaking to the vet, I waited until I calmed down a little. Then Andrew and I walked the bill over to the attack dog owner’s home. When she came to the door, we could see she was sincerely apologetic, glad to pay the vet bill, and she understood the danger posed by what she described as an otherwise sweet dog. As we spoke, I decided to let go of my anger. Unsure of how to express this without saying it was all ok or causing further issues by telling her I’d originally wanted her dog put down, I simply said I wanted peace between us and she visibly relaxed. I relaxed too, because letting go of anger freed me to focus on caring for my sweet Hope as she heals and show mercy to someone who was clearly sorry and trying to make amends.

Later that night, I called my sister to tell her about Hope. As we talked it over, my brother-in-law reminded me that “All things work together for good for those that love the Lord and are called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28). This quotation came back to me this morning as I prayed St Philaret’s prayer.

I aspire to accept the things that come while also praying for God to help me deal with them.  When we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we ask God to help us fear no evil. We don’t hide in that valley and we don’t turn back, we walk through it trusting God.

Accepting things that come our way is like that.  We accept the reality in front of us, hopefully reject bitterness about it, and then walk through it while trying to make things better.

The dog attack was allowed by God, but that didn’t mean we just let the dog attack. Andrew fought off the dog. My husband cared for Hope medically. I overcame my anger and made peace with the attack dog’s owner after she did the right thing by accepting responsibility and apologizing. Each of us had a role to play after the incident. 

As a bereaved mother, you can be sure I’ve wrestled with accepting unforeseen and unwelcome events. St. Philaret’s morning prayer is an aspirational prayer. Each of the lines in this prayer are things I aspire to. 

Whatever happens in this life, God’s love for us is not diminished or thwarted by these unforeseen circumstances. He walks with us, even when its so dark we don’t think we see Him. Unforeseen challenging events give us opportunities to grow, to fight evil, and to live out our trust in the Lord. We need them and we sure get them even when we don’t want them.

O Lord, grant me to greet the coming day in peace, help me in all things to rely upon your holy will.
In every hour of the day reveal your will to me.
Bless my dealings with all who surround me.
Teach me to treat all that comes to throughout the day with peace of soul and with firm conviction that your will governs all.
In all my deeds and words, guide my thoughts and feelings.
In unforeseen events, let me not forget that all are sent by you.
Teach me to act firmly and wisely, without embittering and embarrassing others.
Give me strength to bear the fatigue of the coming day with all that it shall bring.
Direct my will, teach me to pray.
And you, yourself, pray in me.
Amen.