Bung Balogna

Bologna is the most innovative food there is. It can be used to stuff cheeks at a picnic, win friends and influence people, and promote dance among the canine population. I fondly remember my bologna days during those quirky moments when my mind travels back to my childhood…

When he's inclined to do so, my dad plays a mean fiddle. I popped the weasel in “the day” more often than I can count; yet each time, I danced with my sisters like it was the first time the tune tickled the drum of our ears.

Lisa was our toy poodle--not to be confused with Preacher’s Wife, who’s clearly not a toy poodle. Although Lisa suffered a traffic accident the day she slam danced with the tire of a moving car, she could dance. Lisa didn't need Fantasia Barino to teach her the “Bobo,” she relied on nothing more than a wiggling slice of bung bologna.

After removing the fiddle from it's felt lined case, my dad always made a trip to the kitchen with his bow in tow, before sitting down to play. There he would carefully hook a piece of meat to the end of that bow so Lisa could join in the fun.

I know that Lisa danced because she was eager to get that meat in her mouth, but I sometimes wonder if perhaps part of that little dog just wanted to dance with her sisters--I know that I did.

Little Lisa was raised by two hand raising, tongue speaking, spirit shaking, Pentecostals--my parents. Little pleased them more than to say, "Praise the Lord!" in front of church friends, only to see our dog hop off of the couch and raise her paws in the air.

Lisa was a special little thing who I enjoyed immensely, but was created for a reason, and that reason was to please God. Sure, I know that Lisa was only doing a trick to please her owner when she lifted her paws in the air, but I do marvel about the spiritual aspect of creation that my mind still can’t wrap its way around.

Luke 19:40 says, ‘But He answered and said to them, “I tell you that if these should keep silent, the stones would immediately cry out.”’

And my sister, who’s planting her garden, tells her flowers in no uncertain terms, that they were created to please the Lord, and so she’s cheering them on as they bloom. Ok, my family is odd, but you should see her beautiful garden…

The Psalmist often wrote about creation praising God. Each time I hear those words, "Let every living, breathing creature praise GOD! Hallelujah!" I'm reminded of Lisa with her arms in the air, and I sense the pleasure she brings to the Lord. I sometimes wonder if perhaps part of that little dog just wanted to dance before the Lord--I know that I do. Just like it was the first time His voice has tickled the drum of my ears.