Sometimes I get a glimpse of what I must look like to God.
At the beginning of March (when we could still gather), I was at a friend’s house waiting for folks to arrive for church.
Her little Yorkie started barking as he does whenever someone drives (or walks, jumps, crawls, or flies) onto the property. After all, it’s his job to stand alert and guard the premises. He also wants to be the first to meet and greet.
As our new arrival was settling her car into the driveway, the little Yorkie kept barking almost without taking a breath. He stood in front of his mama with fervent barking, as if to say, “She’s here! Can’t you see?”
Then he’d run to the door, look out, run back to his mama and bark some more.
“Can’t you see she’s here? I have to go out and see her. I have to inspect her car! So much is happening in the driveway. Why won’t you let me out? Can’t you see it?”
The longer his mama didn’t respond to let him out, the more intense he became.
She tried to explain to him: “I know you want to go out and see her. But what you don’t realize is that more people will be driving up. I can’t let you run around yet. It’s not safe.”
His barking became so loud it basically drowned out her words.
That’s when it hit me. I was looking at myself with God.
How many times have I hollered at Him: “God, there’s a problem. Why aren’t You doing anything? Why don’t You fix it? Can’t You see?” The less He seems to respond, the louder and more frequent my barking becomes. If God were trying to respond, how could I hear Him?
And might He be trying to say something like the Yorkie’s mama said to him:
”Little one, there are things you don’t realize, things you aren’t aware of. I know you want to bust through that door, and you think I’m not opening the door or that I don’t see what’s out there. What you don’t realize is I know what’s coming down the road. I’m trying to keep you safe. There will be a right time to go through the door. When the time is right, I’ll open it for you, and you can greet everyone to your heart’s content.”
Thank You, God, for the lessons You give us in everyday life that help us draw closer to You. Amen
Copyright © 2020 by Janet Eriksson
Janet Eriksson is an intercessor, writer, and teacher in Dahlonega, Georgia. She loves conversation with friends, front porch swings, sweet tea, and spending time on lakes and rivers. The author of nine books and editor of many more, Janet blogs and teaches at Adventures with God. She enjoys volunteering with Transformations. Janet received her M. Div. from Asbury Theological Seminary.