Courage, our two-year-old 10-lb wonder dog, has felt about the Mustang what allergic people feel towards bees. For the first year he wouldn't even voluntarily get into the car, let alone enjoy the breeze from the rolled down windows. It seems as though something about the sound of the rumbling engine and the barely-there mufflers doesn't suit him.
Now he gets in, with a small amount of hesitancy, by voice command. This alone is huge progress.
A few days ago I noticed at stop lights he would start to stick his little black nose out the open window. When I'd let go of the brake he'd instantly pull back into the car and return to his "stop and drop" driving position.
Cruising down the road Courage, fitting to his name, stood up on my lap and slowly started to poke his puppy nose out the window ... while I was driving.
It didn't hit me till later how often how Jesus relates to me like this. Out of my anxiety I have conditions and boundaries to opportunities and open doors (or windows) -- like Courage, I'll agree to poke my nose out but only when the car isn't moving. And He waits. He doesn't force. He's gentle. And perhaps He trusts that one day I'll be ready, and I'll poke my nose out of the moving car. On that day we'll both be proud of this new step, and all the ones I took before it.
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