lessons from the barn

Alright, so you all know that I lost my job last month; and if you don't, yeah that happened.

I'm still working through some issues with getting past it. Fun stuff like impatience and bitterness. Joy, joy, joy.

A few days ago was one of the really low days- and I was absolutely fine until I was trying to fall asleep and the whole thing hit me again.

I missed working. I missed waking up every morning excited about the new day. I missed seeing all the horses, even the ones who behaved like snots most of the time. I missed petting one of the dogs every time I walked by him in the tack room. I missed the other dog's rambunctious greetings every morning. I missed the cats yelling at me to pick them up. I even missed the soreness from a good ride and my feet being stepped on and coming home all dusty and tired.

It was already late, much later than I would have liked to be trying to fall asleep, but I hadn't been tired. But then I couldn't fall asleep because I was crying and having a discussion with God about it (mostly asking Him to explain Himself).

And then my rooster started crowing. It was one in the morning. Pitch black. I still don't know why I even noticed him, or even the lesson behind that, or even if there was supposed to be a wink there, but in any case, it got my attention and my mind off of my pity party. Granted, I still didn't fall asleep until around two, but I was able to sleep whereas before I was thinking I'd probably be up much later crying.

Then that morning, I saw on Facebook one of the girls in a Christian Girls' group I am a part of posted a song with the caption saying that she felt like one of us needed to hear it that morning. Boy was she right. Later another of my Facebook friends posted John 13:7 "Jesus replied, 'You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.'"

This morning was beautiful. The sun is out for the first time after a few days of clouds and rain. It is supposed to get into the 70's later this afternoon. The birds are all damp and the coop is a muddy mess. So I was going to let them out all day to give everything a chance to dry out.

But there was a hawk perched in a tree nearby.

If I let anyone out, more than likely at least one of them would be gone by the time I put them back up this evening. So I didn't let anyone out. They were upset and complaining at me when I only gave them fresh food and water and left them penned up. But I did it for their own good. They didn't understand, and they probably won't ever understand, but at least they will all be safe for today.

They don't know when a hawk is eyeing them from a tree, or if a bobcat is watching from the grass, but when I see the danger, I keep them safe by keeping them back. They don't get it. They still fuss at me.

But here's the deal. We do the same thing when God keeps us back from something.

We think we have it all figured out. We have our plan, and we think that out plan will be perfect for us. But then the plan falls through and we freak out. We get upset and start squawking. We may never figure out why the plan didn't work, but we can know that God always has our best interests in mind.

Eventually He gives us a little thought. Something to give us a hint as to why He did what He did. I like to call them Winks. Usually He has to give me a few Winks before I finally get it and realize He was even Winking at me.

Anyway.

Those are some of my thoughts for the day.

Is there anything you would like to add?

Anything I can be praying for you?