Chains

"I seemed to hear God saying, "Put down your gun and we'll talk." - C.S. Lewis
     
     It's three in the morning and I'm wondering how in the world I got back to this place.  It's dark in the room except for the neighbors yard light shining through the door I left open looking for some cool air to help me breathe.  I'm hanging off the bed and really don't care if I fall off or if the drool slides from my mouth to be absorbed by the pillow.  What happened?  I thought if I followed You, God these nights were behind me.  I'm a lot like my grandma and she got to die peacefully in her sleep, what about it, God?  I'm not really doing any good here.  I just keep running around in the same circle, coming back to the same miserable place.  Are you there God?  Hello?
     I feel like a chained dog.  I get excited and take off running and BAM it happens again.  I hit the end of the chain and my feet come off the ground and I land on my back.  I feel the enemy's grip on my throat.  I don't get it.  All the other dogs seem to be running around with no problem, why can't I?  I run around in circles until I am all wound up in chain and then that bratty little neighbor kid comes over to untangle me and all I get is confused.  Go this way, go that way, move your foot.  Then he unhooks the chain, untangles me and I run for my life, BAM, on my back.  Apparently, he attached the chain again.  I must have missed that part.  He has to be the devil because he is laughing his ass off every time I land on my back.  I hate that kid.
     Where is my owner?  The One who feeds me.  You know the One we call God.  He shows up and pets me like I am His one and only and then it happens, every time. He starts walking and I follow.  Isn't that what we are supposed to do?  Follow?  I think I made it a little further this time and in the excitement I move a little faster and then, BAM!  That chain AGAIN!
     Okay, God, explain this to me.  Why can I only go so far?  Hello?  Are you there?  Then in the darkness, I hear a whisper, "You are tied to a pole."  What?  What pole?  Who put that pole there?  I can try to dig it up, but it's just buried too deep.  I could cut the chain, but what dog has cutters and how would I work them with these paws?  This is feeling pretty hopeless.  How do I take  out this pole? 
     First you have to know what the pole is made of.  Yep, the anger, the tears, the depression, is all just the paint job on the pole.  It's like looking at the symptoms and not the disease.  There is freedom and I can finally sleep, just knowing there is a pole and what it is made of.  I sit patiently by my food and water tangled up to my neck in this chain, stuck to close to the pole for comfort and I wait for God.  It's His job.  If He wants me to follow Him, He will have to untangle me, take out the pole and set me free.  Whimpering didn't seem to get His attention so I sit up, perk up my ears so I can hear Him really good and I wait.  And I wait.  And I wait some more.  Maybe He is allowing me time to accept the pole?
     I look around and there is a lot of space I could be running around in.  There are a lot of other dogs I could be playing with.  It's kind of scary.  Maybe tied up to this old pole isn't so bad.  Yeah, I believe He is giving me plenty of time to decide if I really want the freedom.  Maybe He would take it out if I wasn't wrapped so tightly around it, holding on for dear life. 

“We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.”
― C.S. Lewis