Things That Go Fling In The Night

Last night, I took Jack out to do his business before bed.  It was dark out, but the porch and yard lights were on.  The Pastor isn't overly thrilled that we have Jack.  He let me get Jack because he loves me, not because he wanted a dog.  To keep things as peaceful as possible, I've been trying to be diligent about cleaning up after Jack and keeping the possibilities for fight-starters to a minimum.  So last night while I was standing outside, I noticed some doggie doo that needed to be shoveled up.  Like I said, it was dark, but I could see just enough to take care of it.  I carefully scooped it up and went to the area where, for lack of better words, I fling the poop out of the yard and into the surrounding field/woods.

I'm getting rather good at this "flinging" process. I guess there's an art to it and I'm getting lots of practice.  Well, just as I drew the shovel back to give it the ol heave ho, something attacked my foot.  I didn't know if it was a rodent or a snake or what.  I screamed.  I jumped. I was mid-swing with the poop and I have to say, I have no idea where it landed, but it was definitely not in the intended spot.  I put the shovel back and ran in the house, happy I had not been eaten alive by whatever came after me. 

This morning I was in the yard again (I'm out there a lot these days. Who knew a puppy had so much poo in him.)  I wandered over to the scene of the attack last night.  As it turned out, my attacker was still there... A piece of chicken wire.  To top it off, my shovel full of, um, well, you know...it was everywhere.  Oh, poop.

Sticks & Stones...Mostly Stones

My son loves to throw.  He's 8 and I can clearly remember him pitching and throwing balls before he could walk.  He would crawl down the hallway "herding" as many balls as he could control.  Then he'd sit down at one end and throw them all down to the other end.  After that he would crawl down, retrieve the balls, and do it again. Since then, he's been in trouble, just about continuously, for throwing things.  Anything he gets in his hands, he has to throw.

This weekend we were at the lake, and obviously, one of his favorite things to do is to throw rocks into the water.  He swam for just a few minutes, then began with the rock throwing.  Over and over and over.  I thought his arm must be ready to fall off and I was getting bored watching this.  I figured he must be wearing down, so we began to have throwing contests.

I flippantly found a suitable rock.  He threw first.  Sploosh. Nice job, but watch this.  I threw next.  Mine landed a good 10-15 yards closer in than his.  The competitor in me (if you've ever met her, she's not always pretty), selected another rock...much more carefully this time.  I reasoned that the rocks weren't the same size, so they didn't fly the same.  We threw again.  I lost again.  Okay, this was getting serious.  Game on, Boy.   The selection of my rocks became more precise but the outcome remained unchanged.

We threw and threw and he beat me repeatedly.  Finally I got one that landed about 2 inches farther out than his.  I decided to quit while I was ahead, but he goaded me into "just one more throw".  I gave in...and lost again. I'm not sure what happened to my little baby throwing balls in the hallway or my throwing arm, but I seem to have lost them both.

Double Trouble

Sometimes, double is good. Double coupon day, double chocolate chip cookies, and double cheeseburgers. But other times, double is a bad thing. The book of James says, "...but when he asks, he must not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. That man should not think he will receive anything from the Lord. He is a double-minded man, unstable in all he does." Ouch. James is talking about asking for wisdom here, but I think the principle applies to anything we ask God for.

Tonight I caught myself being double-minded and the Holy Spirit called me on it big time. I was folding sheets and talking with God. I asked him for something that didn't exactly have earth-shattering effects, but would really be helpful and important to me. You know, those types of very practical requests we make of God...like that the check we're expecting shows up in the mail before we have to pay the next bill or that we'd be able to get that sticky lock open.

So I'm matching corners on the sheets and talking with the Lord about this request. But, before I even finished my petition, I turned my thoughts to what I would do if and when it wasn't answered the way I asked. I instantly began to build my contingency plan. I caught myself mid-thought, or rather, as I said before, the Holy Spirit caught me. I was asking God to solve a problem for me and trying to solve it myself in the same breath. Oops. Double-minded. Unstable in all I do. Yikes. I quickly had to ask for forgiveness.

Give some thought to the requests you make of God. Do you ask and then immediately try to solve on your own? Remember, being double-jointed could possibly be a good thing, double-minded, not so much.