This is a post I have needed to write for a long time, but haven't been able to find the means to convey it. Tonight I found my anecdote.
Since I have been back home, I have taken over responsibility for my dog, Tessa, again. Feeding her, bathing her, and letting her outside. Tonight, after a particularly emotional evening, I let my dog out like usual and was sitting outside in the lovely 50 degree Michigan weather, praying. Hoping that God could give me an answer in Morse coded cricket chirps. No such luck, but he did give me a slight epiphany.
The chain that I attach to Tessa's collar when she is out, sometimes gets stuck on the staircase on her way back inside, not allowing her to climb up. Now being the smart dog that she is, she know the command "try again" and when I give it, she goes back down and tries again. On the second time, the chain is readjusted and she runs right inside. She knows this. This is how it works. But sometimes she is too confident, turning so quickly that she doesn't allow the chain to move, and on her second try, she is choked and pulled back down. I always chuckle at her and repeat "try again" and the next time she goes slower and makes it up. Yet sometimes, showing her true puppy nature, she still wants to run, and is pulled down a third time. That is when she yelps, she makes a small pathetic sound and stands at the bottom of the stairs, not willing to try again. She is waiting for me. Waiting for me to come move her chain for her, so she can run up those steps with no fear, because it always works when I help her.
I am like Tessa, life is my chain, struggle is my staircase, and God is my master. I can go through my life fine on my own most of the time. There are some days where I can run from one end of the yard to the garage and never have to stop. It's almost as if I fly over the stairs without batting an eyelash, but other days, I stumble on that first step. I get caught and God has to tell me to "try again," I turn around and with all determination I run up those stairs again. This time I make it.
Next time I won't.
But then there are nights where I don't make it up the second time. That when I stumble again, I won't listen to my master's command of "try again." Instead I will sit at the bottom of my staircase and I will whimper. I will cry out until my God comes and helps me move my chain, so that I can run without fear.
This is how my life is, and I am incredibly humbled to realize that I am just as helpless as my twenty pound mongrel. That I need help just to get inside. That I can't do it alone every time. That as much of an independent woman that I think I am, I still need God to give me the command and to step in when I can't climb my struggle alone.
So tonight, God didn't send me coded messages though the crickets night songs. Tonight God showed me that regardless of what I am going through, I need to try again, and when I feel like I can't anymore, He will be there to help me out.
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