Concerned that something might be wrong, I crawled out of bed and walked into the hallway. No Mitchell. I checked the living room, the kitchen and the foyer. Still, no Mitchell. I went over the events in my head and recalled having heard him stir. Then, it clicked. My office door was tightly shut, as it always is during the night to keep out the extra light from the street lamp outside our house, as well as the heat that tends to build up in my office. I rushed to open the door, and sure enough, there stood Mitchell. His ears were flat like they get when he knows he's in trouble. I loved on him as much as I could and tried my best to convince him that he was not in trouble. His incarceration had been an accident. Evidently, he had been asleep under my desk when Jason closed the door for the night, and since Mitch never made a sound (other than his slight stirring), we had no idea of his predicament.
My mind promptly revisited the time that we had done the same thing to Tippy when we left to
run some errands. Unfortunately, we were gone for quite a while, and Tippy isn't nearly as patient as Mitchell. As soon as we arrived home that day, we knew there was a problem. Tippy was fussing up a storm. She cried. She howled. She wanted everyone to know she was unhappy. In direct contrast, Mitch didn't say a word. No cries. No howls. No whimpers. He just settled in and made the best of a bad situation. Oh, that I would learn to do the same!
I tend to react to unpleasant situations the same way Tippy reacts. I whine and complain. I want out of the situation, and I want out NOW! But I long to be more like Mitch. I long to have the attitude of "Well, it's not what I wanted, but I'll make the best of it." In the midst of his "trial," he was still able to rest, and though he seemed to think he was in trouble, it was obvious he never doubted my love for him. Upon his release, he came right to me. He loved on me as much as I loved on him. And within a few minutes, he was back to his happy-go-lucky self. Instead of complaining about his lot in life, he worked with what he had. He made use of the doggie bed under my desk and stretched out as much as he wanted (something he can't do in the bed with us). He didn't waste time and energy fussing about what was. He only looked at what he could make of it. And in that, he's quite an inspiration.
I'll admit, he's been a little clingy the past few days (yes, even more than usual). Perhaps he's afraid of getting locked in my office again. Or perhaps his situation simply reminded him of how nice it is to hang out with the Master. Could that be the reason for our current state? Could God be putting us in a place to remind us of how pleasant it is to hang out with the Master? Who knows? The point is that we can be like Tippy, who wastes time and energy fussing about her situation, or we can be like Mitch, who decides the make the best of it.
Sorry, Tippy, but I think I'm going to have to go with Mitchell on this one.