“Indefatigable” is a word that requires us to get a good head start before we take a run up the hill to annunciate it. “Indefatigable” is a tongue challenging six syllables – in the company of “catastrophically,” and “serendipitously.” It comes from the seven syllabled Latin indefatigabilis – “that which cannot be wearied,” from in – “not” + defatigare – “to tire out.” If you have gotten this far, most likely you have some indefatigability (eight syllables!) about you!
Well, enough polysyllabic musings. Let’s get personal. What or who defines “indefatigable” for you? Some peripatetic over-achiever? Maybe. Maybe some sleep deprived young parent or an exhausted community leader – folks who would tell you they only appear quasi-indefatigable.
Lassie, my collie dog, was the first to show me “indefatigable.” “Steve, have you been petting the dog and rubbing your eyes?” Mom knew I had. My eyes would swell shut when I’d pet our dog – my first dog. I was an allergic four when Dad brought this collie pup home. “Steve, what’ll we call her?” Dad asked. Even though we didn’t have a TV, I knew about the “Lassie” TV show. So, what else could we call her? Lassie and I became fast friends – roaming the sandstone bluffs overlooking little Elbert, Colorado.
Lassie was an impetuous, enthusiastic welcome wagon to our neighbor, Ed. As he walked home from work, Lassie – seeing him coming – would stand on two feet – leaning with two paws on the spring that kept the gate shut. Then, with just the right amount of pressure – freedom – and a mad dash of tail wagging greeting.
One afternoon, this gate sprung freedom brought collision with a car. No broken bones – but part of Lassie’s coat was ripped from her flesh – and she had a temporary three-legged hobble.
The doc advised: “That dog belongs in the country.”
Bandaged Lassie was packed in the car and seventeen miles later she arrived at Grandpa Louis’ homestead. Here she would heal.
Since the late 1800’s when Louis’ Dad, my Great- Grandpa Lars, homesteaded what grew to be a 640-acre farm, other dogs had patrolled it. Notables included Trixie, Mitzie, Beauty and especially Boots. But Lassie occupied a special place of honor. Lassie was the first dog invited into the house. Her place was at the right hand of Grandpa’s overstuffed chair where he relaxed after long days – she watched him read his newspaper – his books – listen to the radio – or watch his two TV shows – “Wagon Train” or “The Lawrence Welk Show” – or beat me in checkers – always. And he would be patting Lassie on the head.
Early one morning Grandpa left to help his neighbor, Oscar. They were in Oscar’s barn when Grandpa clutched his heart and fell. Oscar tried resuscitation, but Grandpa was already gone. In heaven he was greeted with a welcome that outdid even Lassie’s.
Lassie knew none of this. Lassie was in her place awaiting her master.
As days and weeks and months passed, someone after someone would open the farmhouse kitchen door. Lassie would spring to alert – ears forward – eager to hear Grandpa’s step – eyes bright to see his smile – sprinting through the living room – spinning out on the hard surface of the dining room turn – ready to give her tail wagging welcome to Grandpa. But, it was not Grandpa.
Nor was it ever to be.
Lassie was consigned to dropping her head – and, with an audible sigh – returning to settle in her place – indefatigable in doggedly waiting the return of the one she loved. She had given her heart to Grandpa and he had runaway to heaven with it. Her loyal dedication moved my young heart – and it still does.
One more story – a friend told me that his wife’s dog had been acting “puny.” When they took him to the vet, the vet asked if the dog had been wagging his tail much. Sure enough, the dog’s mistress had been away for a few days. When she returned, the dog was so excited that he nearly “wagged his tail off.” The vet called it “hyper-extension.”
Most likely, you’ve heard other dog stories of such devotion.
What is the source of such persistent fidelity? Could it be God himself? Think of Jesus “hyper-extending” himself on the cross. If that connection is too much of a leap for you, I understand. But, it was my first thought. Christian, and those still to become Christian, what profound harm Jesus chose in hyper-extending himself so that our prodigal, indefatigable God can welcome sinners like us home.
