Spring has seen the arrival of a puppy at our house. Dixie may be officially owned by the two eldest kids, but the rest are automatically taking on responsibility for her and taking as much enjoyment out of her playfulness and accomplishments, and even sharing in the many frustrations that come with training a puppy.

I, for one, am realizing that, in many ways, a puppy is more work than a baby. When you put an infant down in a crib or car seat, or even on a playmat on the floor, you know that baby isn’t going anywhere. When you leave a puppy in a certain spot and go to do something, you can be almost guaranteed that the puppy will not be there when you get back. Puppies move … fast. There are no diapers to catch their indoor messes, and when they wake up in the middle of a Nova Scotia spring night they need to go out into the freezing, cold, darkness. If my two oldest ever have kids of their own, they will be no strangers to the sacrifices of sleep and time required to care for a little one.

Like so many other situations in life, seeing the kids work with the puppy is a reminder of the importance of perseverance. As I watched my 18-year-old son clean up after the dog had an accident on the dining room floor, I had a vivid flashback to his potty training days. I told him that when we first started training him when he was a toddler, I thought he would never stop having accidents. I remembered feeling so defeated, thinking “how can one small bladder hold so much?”

Though different on many levels from puppy and toddler training, the defeat felt by the Apostles after Jesus’ death is comparable to the defeat we often feel when life meets us head-on with a challenge, writes Clare Lazzuri. (Contributed photo)

Though obviously different on many levels from puppy and toddler training, the defeat felt by the Apostles after Jesus’ death is comparable to the defeat we often feel when life meets us head-on with a challenge. The readings offered in these days between Easter and Pentecost, are recounting the early days of what would become the Catholic Church – a time of doubt and questioning for some of Christ’s disciples, but also perseverance for many of them.

The Road to Emmaus story that we hear in the Gospel reading on the Third Sunday of Easter is one of my favourites. These two disciples are deflated, walking away from Jerusalem, from what they thought was the Messiah. Having heard about the Resurrection, or at least the fact that Jesus’ body was no longer in the tomb, it seems they have decided Jesus was not the Messiah they thought he was. Before they know they are talking to Jesus, they say to him, “But we were hoping that he would be the one to redeem Israel; and besides all this, it is now the third day since this took place.” You can almost hear the disappointment in their voices.

As people of faith, we are all called to discern the right path at various times in our lives. Just like having to discern which puppy training expert is worth listening to, sometimes we have to ask ourselves if the road we are on is helping our faith grow or not. In some ways, the Church is still experiencing growing pains, because it is a living, breathing entity made up of human beings. Sure, the Church was founded by Christ and is guided by the Holy Spirit, but, just like in its early days, the Church is subject to ups and downs, successes and failures and having to clean up messes ... lots of messes. It’s not hard to sympathize with the uncertainty felt by Christ’s followers in those early days.

It’s essential to note that it is when Christ breaks bread that the Emmaus Road disciples finally recognize their Lord and realize that he is the Messiah after all. Jesus reveals himself in the ultimate act of love and sacrifice of the Eucharist, which sets us apart as Catholics. It’s OK to have questions and even uncertainties on this journey of faith, but we need to avail ourselves of the advantage of more than 2,000 years of Church teaching and the opportunity to meet Jesus regularly in the Eucharist. The key is to persevere and stay close to Christ when circumstances get difficult and challenges seem overwhelming. We all experience the growing pains of life and faith, but sacrifice, love, joy, and pain can all lead to the greatest gift.

Lazzuri writes from her home in Nova Scotia, where she lives with her husband, six children, and her mom. She can be reached at [email protected].