Free Blind Hope: An Unwanted Dog & the Woman She Rescued by Kim Meeder and Laurie Sacher

and bruises, Mia made it look easy to trust in a voice emanating from someone she could not see.

    I leaned back in my office chair and clapped. “Yeah, Mia! Well done, little dog! Well done!”
    With a small laugh, Laurie agreed and placed her notes on the old Hoosier cabinet beside her. Quite suddenly, a slight frown pinched her face; I sensed she was sifting through all that she had observed of Mia’s behavior. “When it comes to trust, believe, and listen, how can that kind of faith be so easy for my dog … but so hard for me?”
    She opened her hands and lifted them toward the ceiling. “My dog isn’t teaching me to sit and stay, but to move forward in action—to trust, believe, and listen. Before my eyes, Mia has demonstrated that it doesn’t matter if I can see what lies ahead of me. It only matters that I trust, believe, and listen to the God who does.”

T he ring of my cell phone tugged my heart away from the Oregon Coast, with Laurie and Mia, and back to my office, where her story had first started. The number on the tiny screen read “Troy,” my sweet boyfriend, my champion, the man I had married almost thirty years ago. Always eager to speak with him, I excused myself and took the call. Laurie signaled that she was going into the kitchen to get a glass of water. I smiled at her and raised my fingers in a “make that two glasses, please” gesture.
    My conversation with Troy had concluded by the time Laurie returned with two Mason jars filled to the brim. Without a word she handed me a jar, and we both took long drinks. Isensed that she had more to share about all that had happened at the coast.
    I spoke first. “To trust, listen, and believe takes time and practice. For most of us, it doesn’t just happen. I think it’s simply amazing that a dog can learn that in such a short amount of time. Kinda makes you want to start following your dog instead of her following you, doesn’t it?”
    Laurie smiled but did not look up. Her expression was one that I have come to recognize as her organizing-my-thoughts look. After a moment, she said, “Just like Mia ignored me that day on the beach, I have ignored God.
    “That evening, I met up with some friends at their campsite. After dinner we decided to go for a walk on the beach. Mia was tired, so I tucked her in to the dog bed in my car.” Laurie paused. “The Oregon Coast is such a powerful place for so many reasons. One of the things I love most about it is how incredibly dark it is at night. It’s one of my favorite places to go star-spinning.”
    To trust, listen, and believe takes time and practice
.
    “Star-spinning? What’s that?”
    “You know, looking up into the deep night sky, putting yourarms straight out, and spinning around and around until you can’t stand up anymore. I used to do it when I was a little girl in California. My favorite part was falling backward into the sand and watching the stars circle in crazy patterns across the sky.”
    I laughed in acknowledgment. “I used to do that during my skiing days as a kid, except I did it while looking up at falling snow.”
    Laurie flashed me a knowing grin. “Only a few times in my life have I seen a sky as full of stars as this particular night. It was unbelievable. There were so many stars that they reached all the way down to the horizon. I felt surrounded by them. We spun around and around with our faces turned up toward the sky. Then we lay down in the sand and watched the most awesome show of dancing stars. After they stopped spinning, I got up and ran and danced and celebrated the beautiful night and the wonderful feeling of being with friends who loved God and loved me.”
    Laurie paused and looked away, apparently reliving the moment and the beauty of it all. “When it was finally time to leave the beach, we had to walk about a quarter of a mile under a deep canopy of trees. It was incredibly dark. I couldn’t see a thing! Thankfully, Karen had thought to bring a