We’ve had dramatic thunderstorms the past two nights in Central Oregon. These have been storms of intense lightning, rolling thunder, strong gusty winds, and torrential rains. It’s good that we’ve been at home for both of these, because Buddy the Dog doesn’t do well with the thunder and the roar of the rain on the roof and the deck.
Buddy the Dog trembles and pants nervously. He paces the floor, white-eyed and afraid. He is torn between wanting to be in the living room with Jean and me and wanting to find a dark corner to hide in.
When I put my hand on him I can feel his trembling. I feel bad for him, because I know that we are safe from this storm and that it will soon pass. There may be some cleanup in the yard after it’s over, and I have to wait to put the rubbish bins out for pickup in the morning until the wind dies down. The power may go out, but the infrastructure in Central Oregon is sound and it will be back soon.
But Buddy the Dog is afraid. It frustrates me that I can’t make him know he’s safe and I’ll protect him. I’m not mad at him, just a little sad that I can’t give him the same peace and confidence I have.
I wonder if God feels that way about me. When the storms of life blow, when major change comes fast and I can’t control the situation, I get afraid too. I know God has promised to take care of me, to provide for Jean and me, to protect us, but I get anxious. I lose sleep, I worry, I complain sometimes. I feel like I want to find a place to hide.
God will take care of me. But, like Buddy the Dog, I get scared.
Father, sorry if it frustrates you when I’m worried and anxious. I know that, like me with Buddy the Dog, you’re not mad at me, you just want me to trust.
Buddy the Dog trembles and pants nervously. He paces the floor, white-eyed and afraid. He is torn between wanting to be in the living room with Jean and me and wanting to find a dark corner to hide in.
When I put my hand on him I can feel his trembling. I feel bad for him, because I know that we are safe from this storm and that it will soon pass. There may be some cleanup in the yard after it’s over, and I have to wait to put the rubbish bins out for pickup in the morning until the wind dies down. The power may go out, but the infrastructure in Central Oregon is sound and it will be back soon.
But Buddy the Dog is afraid. It frustrates me that I can’t make him know he’s safe and I’ll protect him. I’m not mad at him, just a little sad that I can’t give him the same peace and confidence I have.
I wonder if God feels that way about me. When the storms of life blow, when major change comes fast and I can’t control the situation, I get afraid too. I know God has promised to take care of me, to provide for Jean and me, to protect us, but I get anxious. I lose sleep, I worry, I complain sometimes. I feel like I want to find a place to hide.
God will take care of me. But, like Buddy the Dog, I get scared.
Father, sorry if it frustrates you when I’m worried and anxious. I know that, like me with Buddy the Dog, you’re not mad at me, you just want me to trust.
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