My dog died yesterday. She had to be put to sleep because of old age and failing health. Her name was Mandy and she would have been 13 years old in a couple weeks or so. My brother and I got her as a gift on Christmas Day 1995. She was a fluffy golden retriever puppy and her breath smelled like graham crackers. That was fitting, because that’s exactly how I would describe what Mandy was like. A graham cracker. Brown and sweet.

She was my friend. Actually, she was a friend to the whole family. She nuzzled her way into our hearts with her big wet nose and just kind of laid down there for thirteen years, smiling, patient, gentle. And then she left. It’s hard to explain what that feels like. My heart feels like a couch where somebody’s gotten up after sitting there a spell. You can still feel the warmth and see the depression of the cushions, but no one’s there.

Of course, I wonder if I’ll see Mandy again. I know she was a dog and dogs don’t have immortal souls like humans, but I just can’t shake feeling like Mandy was more than a tomato plant. I tried looking up the word “dog” in the Bible, but I don’t think dogs were highly thought of then. Revelation 22 says that dogs will be outside the heavenly city along with the sorcerers and sexually immoral and murderers and idolaters. I think, though, that the dogs there are people, so I’m left with a hopeful ambiguity.

Will our favorite pets be on the new earth? Perhaps. I don’t think we can know for sure, but I do know that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God (Romans 8:21). God will release his saints from decay and he will do the same with his creation. Maybe that will include my sweet smiling friend. I sure hope so. Either way, I can’t wait to be with Jesus. He was the one Mandy was pointing me to all along, anyway.

I’d like to share with you part of a poem by John Piper from the book Future Grace. Whenever I read it, it makes me long for the day when God will restore all things in Christ. Mom mentioned it to me this morning on the phone. Piper is talking from the perspective of someone experiencing the birth of the new creation:

And as I knelt beside the brook
To drink eternal life, I took
A glance across the golden grass,
And saw my dog, old Blackie, fast
As she could come. She leaped the stream –
Almost — and what a happy gleam
Was in her eye. I knelt to drink,
And knew that I was on the brink
Of endless joy. And everywhere
I turned I saw a wonder there.
A big man running on the lawn:
That’s old John Younge with both legs on.
The blind can see a bird on wing,
The dumb can lift their voice and sing.
The diabetic eats at will,
The coronary runs uphill.

The lame can walk, the deaf can hear,
The cancer-ridden bone is clear.
Arthritic joints are lithe and free,
And every pain has ceased to be.
And every sorrow deep within,
And every trace of lingering sin
Is gone. And all that’s left is joy,
And endless ages to employ
The mind and heart, and understand,
And love the sovereign Lord who planned
That it should take eternity
To lavish all his grace on me.

O, God of wonder, God of might,
Grant us some elevated sight,
Of endless days. And let us see
The joy of what is yet to be.
And may your future make us free,
And guard us by the hope that we,
Through grace on lands that you restore,
Are justified for evermore.

(pages 381-382)