Just wait!

Don was away early this morning, and as soon as he was gone, Dusty sneaked through to lay, expectantly, outside our bedroom door. 

I also was up early, to make breakfast for one guest at 7 am. Dusty went to the back  door and waited outside awhile; then I heard the gentle scratch which is her knock, asking to come back in. She looked at me, expectantly. 

Tony left for work, but still Kevin wasn’t up. I heard his alarm ring, as I do every day, a full hour before I hear his feet hit the floor and stumble through to the shower.

But with Don not here to make Kevin’s brekkie if he broke with habit and popped down earlier, I couldn’t just abandon the kitchen to walk the dog, as I normally do. She looked at me with that intense and meaningful gaze. 

“I know what you’re saying,” I told her. “But you have to wait.”

I cleaned out the fridge, discarding the jars of out-of-date condiments. I washed it down. Dusty looked at me reproachfully and silently asked to go back out.

At the usual time, Kevin appeared for his fry-up and tea. Dusty scratched to come back in. 

“Not yet,” I told her.

Finally he drove away. Dusty lined up at the door. Out she went again, expecting me to be right behind her.

But first I had dishes to finish, and beds to tidy, and a bathroom to clean. 

At last I emerged from the house and she was off, trotting down the drive gleefully, no doubt dreaming of that half-eaten road-kill deer still sprawled on the verge. But before we reached it, we detoured round through the woods, as is our wont. 

She paused at every bush to sniff, no doubt identifying familiar canines which also pass this way, and maybe picking up enticing odours of rabbits, pheasant and deer. Mmm. Tempting.

More than once I had to stop and wait, whistling, calling her. She was so eager to get out here and walk, but then she is so easily distracted and delayed.

A bit like me, with the Lord. Last night, someone pointed out a line from the book of James, chapter 5, verse 14. “Be patient, then, brothers, until the Lord’s coming.” 

I often gaze at the Lord (metaphorically!), longing for him to come in power in our community. I shift my position. I remind him of Scripture. I plead with him to come. I give him a meaningful look. I sigh. I shift again. He seems to be long in coming. 

“Be patient,” Scripture says. 

I’m trying. I’m asking him for patience. 

And while I wait, I’m praying that when he does come, I won’t be easily distracted and delayed, but will keep pace with him.