Monday, April 18, 2011

The Sock Drawer


Apparently, my six dresser drawers sound different when sliding in and out. Who knew? My dog Charlie. How do I know? Because I can open and shut five of those drawers 17 times each and Charlie doesn’t even cock an ear or an eyelid in interest. But if I open the sock drawer, no matter where in the house he is, Charlie comes running, tail wagging. Smart little Spaniel—he knows when Mommy puts on socks, he’s about to get a walk outside in the big wide world of who knows what. Could be squirrel scents, worm-hunting robins, or fellow doggies.

My dog craves security in his little routines and my husband’s and my presence. Yet he gets pretty doggone excited about these twice-daily forays into the unknown. It occurs to me he must trust the leash holder. It also occurs to me I might not trust God, my leash holder when I face forays into life’s unknowns. When God opens His sock drawer, I am more likely to climb under the cushion of my doggie bed than to come running. 

What does God’s sock drawer sound like to me? It’s the thrashing of wind chimes against the house when winds seem to come from all directions and I feel powerless to stand, to act, to even hope in Him. It’s the whooshing of two inches of snow onto my delicate daffodil head when I feel crushed and cold and afraid to say the truth God calls me to speak in love to the snow dumper. It’s the choking sound of self-indulgence when God puts someone else’s needs before me. 

What would show God I'm eager to walk with Him through these unknowns? To reach up and calmly still the wind chimes because I know God has power to carry me through howling storms and insurmountable odds; to shake icy snow off the back of my neck because I know God will warm my heart and hopefully the snow dumper’s heart, too; to swallow my selfishness because God shows me generosity of spirit—these would be bounding, tail wagging, toward my heavenly Father, who stands next to His sock drawer with my faith-adventure leash dangling from His holy hand.

Who is this man? Even the winds and the waves obey him! Mark 4:41
I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief. Mark 9:24


3 comments:

Carol said...

Wonderful post--I love the image of your dog running to your sock drawer with tail wagging.

We all want to have that kind of faith in God.

Charlotte said...

Hi Jane-

The minute we try and open the cat food canister our cats come a running!

It's amazing how sounds affect our lives and moods. I just love waking up to the sound of birds singing in the tree tops. I am reminded how happy they seem as they start their mornings.

Speaking of noise, last Tuesday I was sleeping and storm must have rolled in. Around 11:30 a blot of lightening when off over my head. It sounded louder than a sonic boom exploding. I jump up out of bed and I thought that the world had just ended and that something worst must have happened. Needless to say I was scared to death. Afterwards all I could think of was "what happens during end times" when people are forced to hide themselves in caves out of fear from the Lord as stars fall from the sky and day turns into night.

Maybe the Lord just wanted me to experience that moment in time. So that I could share this story with someone else. Heck all I really know is that I wasn't hurt only frightened. Two days later lightening hit a tree near our house and blew out our telephones. That's all we lost. Our neighbor wasn't as lucky. Most of his electronics were blow and now have to be replaced.

All I really know is that God cares for us during the worst of the times and for that I am so very thankful. May you and your husband have a wonderful Passover week.

AquaJane said...

Thanks, Charlotte. I think a lot of us are having end-times visions lately, as well as thankful moments. I hope your celebration of Passover and Easter are rich in grace and mercy.