Buckey The Beagle

A life verse that takes me back: “Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men.” Colossians 3:23 (ESV)

I came into this world in November of 1973 on a night so cold that politicians had their hands in their own pockets. All my mom and dad had to get to the hospital was a Pontiac LeMans convertible. Not the fancy kind you picture cruising down the beach. This one had a dry-rotted back window and no heater.

Dad didn’t panic. He flicked his cigarette lighter and used it to defrost the windshield. Wrapped Mom up in some comforters. Dropped my big sister off with the neighbors, who happened to be a preacher and his wife. Nothing like leaving your firstborn with the clergy and hoping the Lord sorts the rest out.

That season of life? Dad was flipping houses before Chip and Joanna were alive. We lived in three different houses, side by side. Every time he’d fix one up just nice enough to feel settled, he’d sell it, use the profit to move us into the next project. No granite countertops. No ribbon-cuttings. Just sweat equity and forward motion.

Both of my parents came from homes where love was plentiful but money was scarce. Dad’s parents worked hard. Appliance repairman and a waitress raising three kids. Mom’s story was tougher. Alcoholic father. A mom doing her best to hold four children together with grit and prayer. My Aunt Lois used to grin and say, “We were so poor the cockroaches had to go out to eat.” If you can laugh at hard times, you’ve already got a little victory in your pocket.

But even in all that, God was writing something steady and sure.

Mom and Dad met in Little Rock while he was stationed there in the Air Force. Fell in love and got married forty days later. On a Thursday before 1 p.m. because it was cheaper. Romance with a coupon. Big dreams. Small beginnings.

They had my sister in Tulsa while Dad was in aeronautical school. When the job market crashed, they came back to Grundy “for two years.” I’m 52 now and still here. As my old friend Jerry Hodge use to say "If you want to make God laugh tell him your plans".

That neighborhood in Harman was full of young families just trying to make it. Just wanting a better life and to better their families. Hard working people seemed like everybody had grit back then. And right in the middle of all that lived a beagle named Buckey. He was the neighbor's dog.

Buckey was just your everyday beagle. But that dog had a PhD in persistence. He could open gates. I watched him as a boy. He’d stroll up to the fence, stand on his hind legs, flip the latch with his paw and nose, and walk out like he had somewhere important to be.

That yard wasn’t big enough for him. He was built to roam.

In a funny way, Buckey became the mascot of a lot of folks on Harman. Life might’ve fenced you in, but that didn’t mean you had to stay there. Sometimes in life you have to hop up and flip the latch.

Now take that over to the Bible.

David was the youngest boy. The overlooked one. Out tending sheep while his brothers got polished up for the prophet. When Samuel anointed him, he didn’t strut into a palace. He went right back to the pasture. Fought lions and bears when nobody was clapping. He worked heartily as unto the Lord long before anyone called him king.

He didn’t stay fence bound.

Joseph? That man knew about fences. Betrayed by his own brothers. Sold. Lied on. Thrown in prison. Forgotten, if anybody had reason to sit down and sulk against the rails, it was Joseph.

But everywhere he landed, he worked like God was watching. Because He was. Whether Potiphar’s house, Prison cells, or Pharaoh’s palace. Same spirit, Same diligence, Same faithfulness.

And God honored it.

His faithfulness didn’t just lift him. It blessed generations after him.

So here’s the thread tying this dog talk together.

My parents in that ragged convertible.

Dad swinging hammers between houses.

Mom holding things together in a place far from her home with strength.

David in the pasture.

Joseph in the prison.

Buckey at the gate.

Different stories. Same principle.

Look at this verse: "for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. Do all things without grumbling or disputing, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world" Philippians 2:13–15).

God often calls us beyond the fence we were born into. Not for applause. Not for ego. Not to prove something to the neighbors. But to work heartily as unto Him and to be a light.

Sometimes the gate is fear.

Sometimes it’s comfort.

Sometimes it’s the belief that “this is all there is.”

And sometimes it’s just plain laziness dressed up as contentment.

But when you work as if the Lord Himself signs your paycheck, something changes. Your effort gets holy weight to it. Your ordinary becomes an offering.

You might feel fenced in right now, overlooked, stuck, maybe even forgotten.

Listen close.

God sees the other side of the gate before you ever touch the latch.

Stay faithful in the yard He has you in. Tend your sheep. Sweep your floors. Swing your hammer. Raise your babies. Show up on time. Pay what you owe. Pray when nobody hears it. Keep your integrity when nobody would know.

Then when it’s time, hop up, flip the latch, and walk through the door He opens.

Not reckless, not selfish, but just faithful to Gods will for your life.

Because whether it’s a convertible with no back window or a prison cell with no daylight, when you work heartily as unto the Lord, He has a way of honoring it.