Passion, though a bad regulator, is a powerful spring.
RALPH WALDO EMERSON
Lucy the border collie’s favorite holiday was the Fourth of July. She wasn’t particularly patriotic, but she was crazy about fire and fireworks. When a fuse was lit and her extended human family began the countdown, “Ten…nine…eight,” Lucy’s ears would perk up and she’d run in mad circles. “Three…two…one…BOOM!” Lucy’s heart leaped in her chest as she witnessed the rockets’ red glare and bombs bursting in air. But she wasn’t content to be a passive observer like her people. Lucy would charge in and snap at the fireworks—and at times, the fireworks would snap back. These miniburns never deterred Lucy. She’d shake her head, lick her chops, and go back to fire-snapping until all the sparkling flames were gone.
David can’t remember a time when Lucy didn’t have an affinity for fire. She was born with this hot-blooded trait. He thought it was either instinct—or foolishness. David’s family owned two other dogs, a golden retriever and a chocolate Lab. Other than being annoyed by the noise, neither of them showed any interest in fireworks. The Fourth of July was just another day.
Lucy’s other favorite celebrations were birthdays. David loved to watch Lucy’s growing excitement when dinner ended and the cake was being prepared in the kitchen. As the candles were lit, the pyro-loving pup would crouch down and wait, occasionally running in circles, eagerly anticipating the explosion. Since David’s family wasn’t partial to trick candles, this moment never came. Still, Lucy never wavered from her passion. Even when she was lying in her whelping box surrounded by a litter of newborn puppies, if a flame was lit nearby she’d hop out and do her fire-snapping dance. Her maternal instinct was trumped by her desire for fire.
Lucy’s interest in fire and fireworks wasn’t something she picked up from the Dog Whisperer or in obedience school. No, her lifelong enchantment with fire was implanted by her Creator. The same God who knit you and me together in our mothers’ wombs (Psalm 139:13) gave Lucy her unique fascination with flame.
Why?
It’d be nice if I could telepathically ask Lucy, “Why are you so passionate about fire?” Perhaps she’d given it some thought over the years and could articulate an insightful response—or maybe she’d simply shrug and telepathically answer, “I don’t know. I just am.”
Lucy and fire. God only knows. For us, there’s no way to know why. It just is. Like the beautiful flowers that grow, bloom, and die on remote mountaintops or in virgin rainforests without ever once being seen by an appreciating human eye.
Why did God plant them there?
Of what purpose are these breathtaking flowers that never get seen or smelled? Of what purpose is a fire-snapping dog?
David and I discussed the matter. We couldn’t come up with any explanations that held water. Lucy was no canine Smokey the Bear. She wasn’t a descendent of any firehouse Dalmatians. So why did God make her that way?
While they didn’t understand the why of it, Lucy’s family still gave her every opportunity to exercise it. They didn’t lock her up in the basement on the Fourth or exile her to the backyard during birthday parties. They weighed the pros and cons of her fire fascination and concluded that it brought joy to Lucy and wasn’t harmful to her or others. David’s family recognized Lucy’s instinctive passion and rather than quench it, found safe outlets for her to enjoy what she loved. David said, “We always ensured Lucy was around whenever there was a fire to be had.”
How many of us parents have watched a passion develop in our children in the same way? From early childhood, even in infancy, some kids are born with something they love more than anything else. Ever since my nine-year-old son discovered balls, he hasn’t been able to get enough of kicking, throwing, bouncing, bowling, or spinning them. I’m not saying he’s going to be a professional bowler or Ping-Pong player, but we try to give him ample opportunity to express his passion, whether it’s in soccer, basketball, football, or baseball. I have another friend whose son was fascinated by classic monster movies ever since he was a tiny kid. He never lost that fascination and is now one of the youngest professionals in the field of monster movie make-up and masks. Albert Einstein recalled that when he was eight, he received a compass from his father. Albert was enchanted by the magnetic needle magically pointing north and something clicked in him. Unraveling the mystery behind the invisible force that made the needle move would become a lifelong obsession. (His study of electromagnetism figured into the theory of relativity—one of the greatest scientific breakthroughs of the twentieth century.)
Some people—and dogs—are born with specific passions. These weren’t force-fed by parents or taught in school. Why did the Creator put them there? We’d have about the same luck telepathically asking God as we would that border collie—so thankfully God tells us why in the Bible.
First, we acknowledge that everyone is uniquely made by God. Psalm 139:13: “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.”
Second, just as David gave Lucy every opportunity to exercise her passion, so God wants the same for us. He designed us uniquely for a purpose. Read what Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 12:17-18 (MSG): “If the body was all eye, how could it hear? If all ear, how could it smell? As it is, we see that God has carefully placed each part of the body right where he wanted it.”
Feet, hands, ears, eyes. On their own, apart from the body, they have unclear or little purpose, but when placed by the Creator exactly where they’re supposed to be and functioning in the way He designed, each part is indispensable.
Fire-snapping dogs, blooms that are never seen, little boys who love balls, movie monsters, and compasses. We mere dog owners and parents often don’t see why we should encourage these passions. We don’t understand why God made our dog or kids the way He did. It’s not how we would design the perfect dog or child. But rather than quench what God in His wisdom has created, we can simply be good stewards of His creations and encourage healthy development of those passions, just as David and his family did with their pyro-fascinated pup.
Bottom line: the Creator knows why He gave certain people and pups the unique passions He gave them and sometimes He keeps the reasons to Himself. And after we tire of all the speculation and second-guessing of God, it simply comes down to Isaiah 45:15 (NLT), “Truly, O God of Israel, our Savior, you work in mysterious ways.”
Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out! (Romans 11:33).
Do you have or know a child who has a strong passion for something? Has that passion been quenched or encouraged? How might you support its safe and wholesome expression? Did you yourself have an early passion? Was it supported? In what way is it still part of your life now?