A certain householder went to a far country with his family for an extended vacation. Upon his return, he discovered his beautiful lawn had become a jungle, without form and void. So he said, “Let there be the sound of a Briggs and Stratton engine, and it was so. After much labor, going to and fro in checkerboard fashion, he looked at what he had done, and behold, it was very good. Just then, his dear wife opened the back door so the master’s two yellow labs, whom he loved very much, could frolic on the new paradise he had painstakingly cleared and beautified. As he opened his arms to welcome them, they both stopped on the magnificently cut grass and proceeded to despoil his pristine work with their skubala (check out Philippians 3:8 in the Greek, if you need a reference, or just Google it). The householder waxed angry with a white hot wrath at their defilement of his paradise, wishing they had instead merely taken a bite from a low-hanging apple on the tree at the edge of the garden, even as they trotted over to him with wagging tails. Yet he loved them with an everlasting love, and so with a sigh he went to get his shovel and pail, reconciled to the fact that love in this sullied world will always be a messy affair. And his dogs followed after him with singleness of heart, contented in the security of his affection.