The Kelpie

I have previously mentioned that I experience spiritual growth during my chemo. This is one aspect of it.

In my normal life (when I am not being treated for cancer) I do stuff. Lots of stuff. And I do it fast. Slowness of any kind drives me mad. I think fast too. Which means that I'm already executing a plan of action, while other people are still considering the problem. This is all very nice when I need to rely on myself, but doesn't work so well within a community.

I remember how once we went to see a Kelpie demonstration (a Kelpie is the Australian sheep dog). The farmer had two Kelpies. The Kelpies work together to bring in the sheep by driving the sheep, one Kelpie on each side of the sheep herd. But, he said, one of the Kelpies was too fast. Which means that the herd of sheep inefficiently zig zags across the paddock.

So, said the farmer, what do you do when one of your Kelpies is too fast? Well, you change him from fourth gear, down to third gear. And having said that, the farmer proceeded to put the Kelpie's front paw into his collar, so he became, effectively, a three legged dog.

Both Kelpies then ran across 40 acres of dusty fields, and brought back the herd of sheep. The three legged Kelpie was still a touch too fast.

Going through my cancer treatment, I feel like the three legged Kelpie. I feel like God has given me cancer to slow me down. So that I would be more useful in a community. At times I feel that I fight this slowness with tooth and nail. But every now and then, I actually stop, put my tools down, and "feel" what it's like to work at this slower pace.