They like routine schedules and I’ve conformed to those schedules as best as I can.
Every morning at 5:30, Smokey “knocks” on the door exactly one time, then sits patiently for his breakfast.
There never seems to be a sense of urgency with him…he doesn’t keep knocking if I’m delayed…he just calmly sits and waits.
He knows I’m coming.
Yesterday morning I was jolted out of bed about 3:00 AM by the loudest barking I’ve ever heard.
Miss Kitty ran into the bathroom as the door vibrated with the intenseness of the sound…it was intense and scary…this dog was angry.
I was still in the fog of sleep when I heard one quiet “knock” on the door.
Panic hit me when I realized that the dog was after Smokey.
I stumbled hastily to the door and when I opened it I was confronted by about 120 pounds of snarling dog about three feet away.
I managed to grab the rolling garbage can and slam it into the beasts snout…he departed quickly and the crisis was over.
Where was Smokey?
Sitting quietly by the door, utterly unfazed by the noisy threat that had just been subdued.
He had a problem, he knocked on the door, knew that Dad was coming…and when Dad got here the problem would be over.
I petted him a bit and then he ambled back to his cat house and went to sleep.
It was amazing…and embarrassing.
I’d been up half the night already… worrying about things large and small, the cares of this world barking at me whenever I tried to rest.
I pray and worry, worry and pray, running back and forth between heaven and earth like a madman never knowing if I’m heard or if rescue is on the way.
Mine is a faith that depends on circumstantial evidence to keep it alive…it is never sure and can never provide the rest I need.
It is rocked by the waves of life, back and forth between peace and despair, never staying long in one place.
Smokey sleeps like a rock.
He knows his dad better than I know mine, evidently…
Make your own application…