I make it a point to always walk Mitch first because he is much more adamant about getting out the door. But I'm always amazed at Tippy's behavior while I'm out with Mitch. I can hear her whining before Mitch and I have left the yard. She whines. She cries. She scratches at the door. She makes pitiful sounds like none you've ever heard. And by the time I get back with Mitch, she's exhausted herself with her tantrum. As soon as I open the door, however, she marches out the door and sticks out her neck for me to attach the leash. She knows what's coming. She knows she's going to get to walk as soon as I'm done with Mitch. So why does she throw such a fit?
As I pondered that thought this morning, I was assaulted by the realization that I act the very same way with my heavenly Father. When things don't go the way I think they should go, I pitch a fit. I whine. I cry. I make pitiful noises. Don't I know that God's going to take care of me? Hasn't He displayed His faithfulness to me over and over again? Like Tippy, instead of anticipating the journey, I work myself into a frenzy about not getting things my way in my timing. Then, when the time for the blessing arrives, I'm too worn out to truly enjoy it. Oh me, oh my!
We have a joke in our family that the word "wait" is the worst of the four-letter words. Mitch doesn't like to wait. Tippy doesn't like to wait. Jason does pretty well in that area, but I could certainly use some improvement. And like Tippy, I need to learn to wait patiently. Her fussing doesn't make me walk Mitch any faster (not that I could go any faster if I tried). Likewise, my fussing doesn't rush God. It simply prompts Him to remind me AGAIN, "Just hold on, child. You'll get your turn."