Little ruffles my tail feathers quite as much as being awakened repeatedly during my night time sleep. Or going the fridge and discovering that the few food items I am permitted to eat during this no sugar season have been enjoyed by someone who can eat ANYTHING IN THE WORLD!
Y'all, both makes mama want to break bad on somebody.
That's awful I know, but heavens it's true. Other than that, I am a pretty easy going, southern speaking, Italian with a few firecrackers in her blood.
So.
About the no sleep night I experienced. Our sweet little Chelsea dog is not the brightest bulb in the lamp around cars. As such, she had her second unfortunate encounter with a moving vehicle last weekend.
Other than the broken front leg, a severely scraped up back leg, and a nose with half the flesh missing- she faired okay. Mercy.
The vet informed us that in order for her leg to properly heal, we have to keep her calm for three weeks.
I asked if he could give her some nerve pills and throw a few in for me too. I am not beyond borrowing some of my dog's medicine if it keeps me from the crazy house. Because that is exactly where I thought I might be headed having just been handed the assignment to keep my dog still for three weeks.
It would be a challenge to keep Chelsea still for 3 minutes. But 3 weeks???
Well, last night all that stillness got the best of sweet Chelsea and she decided she would punish me with a fit of whining, crying, and banging my closed bathroom door. She wanted out. She wanted outside. She wanted to run and chase some unsuspecting night creature.
To be honest I wanted her to be able to run and chase a night creature too. Oh did I ever. But my love for this dog would not permit me to allow her to harm herself.
Her brokenness couldn't handle that kind of freedom.
Not yet.
And as I tossed and turned in the wee hours of the morning, the truth behind that statement about Chelsea's brokenness struck me as quite applicable to myself as well.
Sometimes I ask God for things and when I don't get them, I can find my spirit whining and crying and banging on the door of what I think would be best for me. But God's love for me will not permit me to do certain things.
My brokenness can't handle that kind of freedom.
Not yet.
I smiled a sleepy smile and thanked God for some of those seemingly unanswered prayers.
And I secretly hoped Art would wake up and do something about that crying, whining, banging on the door - dog. I'm all mature like that.
Y'all, both makes mama want to break bad on somebody.
That's awful I know, but heavens it's true. Other than that, I am a pretty easy going, southern speaking, Italian with a few firecrackers in her blood.
So.
About the no sleep night I experienced. Our sweet little Chelsea dog is not the brightest bulb in the lamp around cars. As such, she had her second unfortunate encounter with a moving vehicle last weekend.
Other than the broken front leg, a severely scraped up back leg, and a nose with half the flesh missing- she faired okay. Mercy.
The vet informed us that in order for her leg to properly heal, we have to keep her calm for three weeks.
I asked if he could give her some nerve pills and throw a few in for me too. I am not beyond borrowing some of my dog's medicine if it keeps me from the crazy house. Because that is exactly where I thought I might be headed having just been handed the assignment to keep my dog still for three weeks.
It would be a challenge to keep Chelsea still for 3 minutes. But 3 weeks???
Well, last night all that stillness got the best of sweet Chelsea and she decided she would punish me with a fit of whining, crying, and banging my closed bathroom door. She wanted out. She wanted outside. She wanted to run and chase some unsuspecting night creature.
To be honest I wanted her to be able to run and chase a night creature too. Oh did I ever. But my love for this dog would not permit me to allow her to harm herself.
Her brokenness couldn't handle that kind of freedom.
Not yet.
And as I tossed and turned in the wee hours of the morning, the truth behind that statement about Chelsea's brokenness struck me as quite applicable to myself as well.
Sometimes I ask God for things and when I don't get them, I can find my spirit whining and crying and banging on the door of what I think would be best for me. But God's love for me will not permit me to do certain things.
My brokenness can't handle that kind of freedom.
Not yet.
I smiled a sleepy smile and thanked God for some of those seemingly unanswered prayers.
And I secretly hoped Art would wake up and do something about that crying, whining, banging on the door - dog. I'm all mature like that.
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