A few years ago we adopted our outdoor dog from a rescue shelter.  She’s a mixed-breed, but I was fairly certain of what those breeds were, based on her color and markings. Still, I asked our veterinarian for his opinion. He told me she was a Canardly.  I’ve never heard of such a creature, I told him.  “There’s really no way to tell what she is,” he explained. With these mixed breeds, one  can ‘ardly tell.” I thought that little play on words was cute, and I’ve used it ever since.

Our beautiful Canardly has turned out to be the most loving and loyal dog of all. Plus, she is an incredibly vigilant watchdog.  Obviously, being a Canardly isn’t such a bad thing for a dog.  I don’t recommend it for Christians, though. How can we teach others about Jesus if they can ‘ardly tell that He is the Lord of our lives?

Jesus warned: I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm–neither hot nor cold–I am about to spit you out of my mouth (Revelation 3:15,16).

I don’t know about you, dear reader, but I would rather someone be frustrated by my fervor than confused by my complacency.  After all, if I’m not passionate about my Lord, Jesus Christ, how can I expect others to be?

Today, I leave you with this thought from Charles Spurgeon:

Believe me, brothers and sisters, if you never have sleepless hours, if you never have weeping eyes, if your hearts never swell as if they would burst, you need not anticipate that you will be called zealous; you do not know the beginning of true zeal, for the foundation of Christian zeal lies in the heart. The heart must be heavy with grief and yet must beat high with holy ardour; the heart must be vehement in desire, panting continually for God’s glory, or else we shall never attain to anything like the zeal which God would have us know.