When I first came to FA, I was skeptical when people went to the podium and shared about how GOD had given them the man of their dreams, the house of their dreams, or the job of their dreams. I didn’t believe that possibilities that had been hidden or out of reach would manifest just because I weighed and measured my food. That has changed over time, as I have seen the blessings God has brought to my life.

I was lonely. My children had moved out to start lives of their own, and I lived alone.  I told God that I wanted a dog, a friend. When I asked God for a dog I was specific.  I couldn’t handle a puppy for the obvious reason; my shoe collection. I wanted a dog that was two or three years old, mellow, and chill. The biggest factor to consider was that the dog had to be housebroken and trained.

One morning as I left the house to go to the doctor, I noticed that there was a stray dog in my courtyard. He was filthy, his hair was matted, he was wet from the dew, and he smelled awful.  His nails were more than an inch long, and I could tell that he had been homeless for quite some time. He ran to me, and I pet him, but resisted picking him up.

I proceeded to my doctor’s appointment and later wondered if that little dog was the dog I had prayed for. I had been visiting with dogs at the local shelters for about 6 months, but something kept preventing me from bringing one home. I wanted to be absolutely certain before I made the commitment. It occurred to me that I had asked God for a dog; was that smelly little mutt with the matted hair my dog? I got sad, thinking that someone surely had taken the little guy in, and I had missed the opportunity. I apologized to God for not recognizing his handiwork again.  I thought, if that is the dog I prayed for, then he will be there when I get back home.

Later, I pulled into my car port, and there was no dog.  I parked the car, got out, and shrugged my shoulders. I had missed my blessing. But just as I turned the corner, this ball of black, matted fur came tearing up the walk, its tail wagging excitedly. I proceeded to my apartment, and he sat at the bottom of the stairs, watching me as I walked up.  When I reached the top, I looked back at him and asked him if he was coming. He came up the steps, walked in the house and sat down like he had been living with me all his life.

I bathed him, then I took him to the vet and the groomer.  I discovered that the dog, whom I named “Black,” was two-years old, mellow and chill, housebroken, and trained. He fetched like a charm, and he could understand the commands for “stand” and “sit.” I could not have picked a dog this perfect if I’d tried. But really, all I did was put my food on the scale, and God gave me the dog of my dreams.