My Savior Disorder Slipped out Today….

We had an “incident “ at Mad Acres this evening. Just shortly after I gushed about wax sealed invitations, love, mercy and grace.


The goats and I were on our evening duck feeding stroll and the dogs had taken off after a rabbit. I knew from Fitzgerald’s bark/howl he was close to his prey. I turned around and saw him run the rabbit toward me. I could see the rabbit was out of energy and I knew in a matter of moments Fitz would have it caught. I have a soft spot for rabbits. Always have, never liked hunting them with my dad. And to make it 10 thousand percent worse, I read Watership Down a couple of months ago.


That uncontrollable, slightly neurotic, high pitched, out of control savior disorder I try to keep neatly tucked away, came up, screaming to be heard. “NO FITZ! NO! Fitzgerald NO!”  Have y’all ever tried to tell a guardian dog/ shepherd mix to not catch the prey he just successfully ran down? Especially when you don’t ever tell him no. Bless. I took off running at him.


At this point my savior flaw is in full force. I’m going to save this rabbit and Fitzgerald will obey me, because I’m right and I know and I’m going to scream and yell until everyone in this situation understands that I have the wisdom and knowledge and power to save. Except I don’t, not in the least.

Yet, for way longer than I should admit, I tried. I screamed and yelled and then begged Fitz to drop it. And screamed and yelled and begged again. I tried to pry his mouth apart. Y’all, I stuck my little skinny fingers in between his jaw to try and get leverage to pry apart his mouth (praise the Lord he is such a good dog). Mabel and Ellie have now drawn close to investigate. I push both of them away, more aggressive than they have ever been pushed by me. This savior disorder can be a psycho when let loose. This idea that I WILL save at all cost. That I know what is right and good and pure and holy and we WILL abide by these standards. To hell with anything that gets in the way of me being a savior. 


It was quite the scene I’m sure. Me trying with everything I have to get this big ole dog to let loose of his prize. I looked at my loving and adoring Fitzgerald and realized that by all rights he should have ran off, or growled or done something. He didn’t. He just stood there and let me be a lunatic, wannabe savior. His infinite peace and calmness, that’s what began settling over me. In this situation, I wasn’t helping or saving… I was the problem, I am the one inflicting more pain and suffering, more distress and chaos. If I hadn’t decided that I absolutely had to intervene, to save, to impart my brand of right and wrong, the rabbit would have died a lot quicker. Instead, it was held clenched in his vise grip jaws, alive, while I yelled and pried and scared it, the goats, the ducks and the rest of the Mad Pack.

At last I let wisdom, peace and love for my Mad Pack, quiet that irresponsible savior disorder, I stopped, stepped back and let Fitzgerald wander off.

As I calmed myself and fed the ducks and watched the storms begin rolling in, I thought, “sometimes letting nature be nature is so hard” and then I felt the Holy Spirit whisper to my still settling soul, “sometimes it’s hard to remember you are not a savior, it isn’t your job to save the world, it’s mine, I’ve already done it.” All the things I’ve seen and heard so much through the years, some things I have said and done, all the holy, righteous, yelling and finger pointing and judging and condeming… all in HIS name came rollling through my mind. I thought about the times I aggresively, one way or another, tried to impart my brand of right and wrong, good and bad upon another person or institution. I saw the places and times I was so wrong, all caught up in my savior disorder, convinced I was helping, I was saving, interveneing on the behalf of righteousness. I saw it for all the ugliness that it truly was, truly is. Somewhere along the way, in those times and in those moments, I twisted His love for me and for “them”, HIS saving grace and mercy for my right to save them. My savior disorder is strong and clever and can disguise itself so well. Oh the times, I just knew it was wisdom, knowledge, discerning, protecting, helping, holy and righteous.

Sometimes, He gives us permission to speak love and truth into a another life. Softly, strongly, with all the love the Cross carries. When He does it is our responsibility to love HIM and the other life more than we love our comfort and ten thousand times more than we love our own drive to be the savior.

This evening as I watched Mad Acres, all it’s love and life and I felt the sanctuary wrap around me. Offering me grace for forgetting that my job is to love, for all the times I forgot that I cannot and should not force my psycho savior on anyone, for forgetting that the Only Love that Saves, eternally, a true Savior, was given through the surrender of the Cross. I was sad about the rabbit. But I was grieved over the suffering my actions caused. I asked the Holy Spirit to give me eyes and heart to see where His love can be greater than the ugly savior disorder that seems to be screaming out of so many of people currently. I asked Him to bring to my mind, this very incident anytime I try to fly into my “I will rescue all the things and everyone regardless of how much trauma I may cause while doing it” psycho savior disorder.

Pretty sure I will be hearing, “your psycho savior is showing, might want to tuck that back in” from the Holy Spirit. Hopefully, prayerfully less and less.

The storm rolled in and Fitz wanted to come inside. He softly walked to the door and gently laid the rabbit down. We came inside and I grabbed my tablet to write. He walked over and laid his head on my lap. All is forgiven. I’m so grateful for the continuing love of my sweet dog and the amazing grace of my Heavenly Father. Even when I accidently let my savior disorder out in full psycho mode, they both give me enough grace to tuck it back in and enough love to keep me from beating myself up over it.

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