Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Dog biscuits

Recently I made some biscotti for Christmas gift giving...crisp, golden brown and filled with toasted almonds. The finishing touch is to drizzle melted chocolate over the top, to add visual pop and another level of yumminess. I spread wax paper on the kitchen table, laid out the biscotti and drizzled Ghiradelli premium bittersweet chocolate (60% cacao!) over the top. They were lovely. I pulled the paper into the middle of the table and left them to sit while the chocolate cooled and hardened. A mere ten minutes later I returned to a mystery. The paper was exactly where I’d left it, but only two of the biscotti were there. The rest were gone. Absent. Departed. All that remained was delectable chocolate drizzle with clean ovals where the biscotti had once sat. I stood there completely flummoxed. The two remaining biscotti had nothing helpful to say. After quizzing my family, it hit me—the dog! A quick search of the floor revealed some crumbs and smudges of chocolate…all that remained of my Christmas biscotti. Beside the disappointment of having done all that work and now having nothing to show for it, I added the outrage of knowing that Annie absolutely knows that she’s not allowed to take things from the table. I glanced under the stairs, where Annie watched me innocently from her bed. I can’t be sure, but she seemed a bit smug, as if she knew I couldn’t even scold her, because I didn’t catch her in the act.

This morning, feeling less outraged and more philosophical, I ate the last biscotti with my morning coffee and reflected. Poor dog—dinner time was approaching and she hadn’t been fed yet and she was probably hungry and opportunity presented itself and why not just help herself? And then it occurred how like that I am! I know I am supposed to wait on God; I know He’s got my provision; I know His timing is perfect; I know He has promised to give me what I need. Yet how many times do I jump at the opportunity to provide for myself? To fix a situation? To reason out how God should help me and then finagle my way into that solution? And of course there are all the things I want that I’m not quite sure He feels I need. So I have to get those things, because I’m not sure He will. I don't always trust Him to make me happy. Too often I am impatient and anxious and unbelieving. How many times has God watched me, His arms full of blessings I can’t see because I’m so busy looking for opportunities to do for myself? I am Annie, snatching goodies off the table when no one’s looking, afraid I won’t get them any other way.
Needless to say, I'm grateful God doesn't respond to me like I did to Annie (she's banned from the kitchen). Even though He knows my weaknesses through and through, He still loves and patiently waits for me to learn to trust and wait for Him. And I am glad, though I am still a little sad about the biscotti...

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