What do a catholic school principal, a plane on a runway, and Spanish greyhounds have in common? Why, sore shoulders of course. While I firmly believe that explaining the joke ruins it, I will make an exception this time.

My friend Donna and I were having lunch. The conversation quickly drifted to some familiar topics, namely this nagging feeling that God wanted her to do something else with her life. And, like before when God tapped her on her shoulder, she promptly ignored that calling. She had goals in her life that she wanted to attain, and believed that God's plan for her life and her plans for her life could not coincide.

I listed to Donna, we finished our lunch, and I went on my way. I neither really believed or disbelieved her. It was just something she said. I guess it's true that you really don't think about something until it happens to you. It was about to happen.

Shortly after that I was working as a substitute teacher in a Catholic school. This was not a good class. I felt I could have used a whip and a chair for the class if one became handy. Despite that, the nun who was the principal must have thought I was doing something right, as she walked into my classroom after school one day and told me she thought I would do very well in a religious life. She proceeded to hand me a book on Saint Don Bosco. I didn't have the heart to tell her I had recently broken with the Catholic church and there was very little chance of me becoming a priest. Still, there was the tapping on my shoulder, and it would only get stronger. When I finally pieced it together, I would see the tapping would not be by a hand, but by a paw.

As I had mentioned in a prior sermon, when Brando was the only four legged resident of the house, he let me know, as only a pet can, that he was lonely. Greyhounds are not used to being alone, as they are raised in groups. So, off to the kennel I went, and soon enough, Nayo came home. Now Nayo would not have been my first choice of a dog. I would have wanted another Brando, a dog who took about five minutes to adjust to his new surrounds, took residence on the couch, and asked when dinner was. Instead I had a dog who would flee from the room whenever I entered and would not let me get near him for the first month. Don't get me wrong. He has turned out to be such a wonderful boy, but if it wasn't that he was Brando's best friend at the kennel, I don't know if he would have ever come with me. However, I also know the ultimate decision wasn't mine.

In trying to be a good parent, I began to research these Spanish greyhounds, which Nayo was, in order to see if there was anything special about the breed. As I read, I was drawn into the horrific life many of them had and the cruelty which they suffered. That tapping on the shoulder became ever stronger.

The same could be said for Valentina. I needed a third dog like I needed a hole in the head. After all, I had done my duty with one shy dog, I didn't need to work with another. Again, God had different ideas, and another Spanish greyhound found her way into my house and into my life. My shoulders were becoming pretty sore by this time from all that tapping.

A few months ago I shared with you the chaos that surrounded Valentina's adoption. One of the fallouts of that situation was that I disassociated myself with that kennel, prepared to simply spend time with my three hounds. I have to stop assuming that I am in charge of my life, as soon enough I was working with another kennel, volunteering, and enjoying myself immensely. This was a less well funded kennel, meaning they really relied on their volunteers, and I soon found myself immersed in helping them out.

One of the things the kennel owner asked for my help with was to get more Spanish greyhounds to the United States. I was not the only one who knew of their plight, and she wanted the kennel to not only be a refuge for American greyhounds, but for their Spanish cousins.

So, with some very sore shoulders, a friend and I will be on a plane in January, headed to Spain in order to give four Spanish greyhounds a chance at a better life. And on that plane, I will probably reflect on the lesson I believe God is trying to tell me through all that shoulder tapping.

That catholic school principal may have had the wrong idea, but she was on the right track. Some very kind people in this congregation have asked me what is my next step...when do I go into the deaconate or the priesthood. While they are very good options, I believe my shoulders are telling me something else.

We often applaud out of the box thinking because don't do a lot of it. In this case, we can be guided by the bible, which tells us that we are all saints, that we are all apostles in whatever we do. At the end of the service, Terry tells us to go out into the world to do God's work, full well knowing we don't have an 'official' status within the Episcopal church.

And we don't need to have one in order to serve God. None of us do. We can serve the Lord in so many places and in so many things, that if all of us had to be ordained in one way or another, there would be no one left in the congregation. God has already ordained us with our own humanity to go out and make this world a better place in some small way.

There is only one problem. We have to accept and follow that tap on the shoulder. My friend Donna thought she had to enter a religious vocation in order to feel that tapping and would not turn her head. I thought so, too, and ignored that tapping until my shoulders were sore. As had happened so many times in the past four years, it was my four legged children who showed me it didn't have to be that way.

We as a congregation will celebrate the Blessing of the Animals next week, but this is the weekend we typically celebrate the works of St. Francis of Assisi. I once again thank all of you for letting me talk about the impact my animals have had, and how God has spoken through them to teach me some of the greater lessons of life.

You don't have to be afraid of those sore shoulders or the cause of them. There are so many ways to improve this world. All we have to do is look in our hearts and see where our passions lie. It will do our souls good, and better yet, make our shoulders a whole lot less sore.

Okay, so maybe I need to work on my joke telling skills.

--Michael Gow