Maybe it’s just because he’s getting older. Maybe it’s because he’s still getting used to his surroundings in the apartment complex we just moved into.
But I swear it seems like he’s barking at nothing these days.
He jumps off the couch with hair sticking up off his back, trying to make me alert of invisible intruders.
I laugh at him. I feel bad for him.
Really though, I do the exact same thing.
I swear there are huge problems in my life. I scream in anger at the invisible forces fighting against me.
The problems I face are minuscule. I scream curses at God because I can’t find my sunglasses when they’ve been on top of my head the entire time.
Alone in my house, barking at nothing.
The funny thing is my dog has better senses than I do.
While it appears to me Roc is just barking at nothing, that’s not really the case.
Really he’s hearing things from farther away than I can see. The truth is there probably is something going on in the distance my dog can hear that I cannot.
I think the same may be true when I bark at nothing as well.
Something is going on, off in the distance. The gears of God’s mechanisms are always moving. I just can’t see what they’re turning towards.
God is moving things farther away than I can see them. While I put together the edges of the puzzle, He’s linking together the middle into a multifaceted mosaic.
When I’m barking at nothing, I’m really yelling in frustration at the shifting plates of God’s plan sending tremors through my life.
I have to remember that I can only see pieces of what He is doing.
What feels like an earthquake is not just my mind exaggerating my issues; it’s the pain of the plates shifting into place for God’s plan.
I ought to give my dog a little more credit the next time he scurries off the couch with his high-pitched scream. The next time I want to bark at God, I ought to bite my tongue and give Him a little more credit for what He’s doing as well.
All things work together for His good.