Dog-walking, Duty, Disciplines, and Delight

Well I just got back from my early morning walk of Heidi, our 9-month old German shepherd. She's actually David's dog, a parental concession to our 13 year old in light of his prospect of living the next few years at home without any older siblings around (or at least we thought no other siblings were going to be around; we actually now have both the dog and the siblings for a while longer. Funny how these things turn out; it's a good thing we're happy with both the dog and the children).

Anyway, I just got back from walking the dog. I do this 4-5 times a week, a brisk 3-4mile walk each time. It all started back in the fall as we plotted out Heidi's exercise needs. She needs lots of it or else we have serious dog-bouncing-off-wall and mom-and-dad-going-bonkers issues on the home-front.

The regimen was decided: I'd do the early morning walk and David would handle the later in the day exercise and care. This meant a change of exercise venue for me: instead of a quick ride to the "Y" to walk on a treadmill in a warm ESPN equipped exercise room, I'd be bundling up about four layers thick, wearing a hat, and donning gloves to do my brisk walk in very brisk conditions.

Here's why I decided to do this: Heidi needed exercise, and the only other alternative to me walking her was Gayline doing it. And while I may not be the sharpest knife in the Christian manhood drawer, I do get some things right, and this was going to be one of them. I was not going to walk in the cozy setting of the "Y" while my wife walked in frigid outdoor conditions. Not happening.

In my book, real men don't take the comfortable route while their wives are roughing it (by the way guys, if you're at all interested in some other thoughts about real masculinity, you may want to check out my Men Ahead blog; it's a once a week devotional reading for men, with application questions.)

Now where was I? That's right: I was not going to let my wife walk out in the cold. This is not to suggest that Gayline isn't tough enough. As I see it anyone who bears and raises six children, takes care of her body and soul the way Gayline does, and does 31 years of hard core life alongside of me in marriage, parenthood, trial, and ministry defines tough. It's just that I'm not going to let her walk in the cold and me in the warmth. It ain't happening. Call it love; call it male ego; call it guilt; call it masculine duty; call it what you will.

Anyway, so began my morning ventures out into the cold. And so continued my exercise routine; one of the disciplines of my life. As time has gone on I’ve discovered something: what started out as a decision/discipline birthed (I’d like to think) out of love—to walk in the cold instead of letting my wife do it—has turned into a blessing for my body and soul.

As I see it now, I’m not sure I would have had the character to keep walking in the winter if not for the decision to care for my wife, and for David’s dog. Heidi needs a walk. I need to walk her. The need/duty has kept me walking at a time when the cold probably would have been my excuse not to walk, even at the “Y”. Duty has taken me where my feelings never would have led. I seldom feel like going out in the cold; it’s not like it’s my favorite thing to do. But on the other hand; in facing a duty with commitment I’ve been led into a measure of health and joy I’d not have known otherwise!

Interesting isn’t it? Duty and discipline have led to better health and yes, happiness. This leads me to this observation: duty and discipline have taken a bad rap in recent times. Legitimate gospel concern about legalistic living has led to a negative perception of the disciplined and even dutiful life. I think I’d like to gather some thoughts around this over the next few days.

Hope you’ll join me in the conversation. Send along your comments and questions.