Musing on Answered “Pretty Please, Pitiful Prayers.”
There’s nothing cuter than a sleeping dog curled up against a sleeping boy.
Unless that dog is Wonderdog. Wonderdog who needs to be in his cage at night. Some folks sanitize dog pens calling them crates, but I choose to call it what it is.
A cage.
And I’m glad for it. It keeps the unsuperivised Wonderdog, A.KA. Chewing Machine, in the pokey so to not to inflict mayhem on any harmless shoes.
Last Monday, I ended my crammed life post with a Pretty Please, Pitiful Prayer. I prayed for the Lord to remind me to set my alarm.
I call it a Pretty, Please Pitiful Prayer because I have been trying to pray only bold prayers. Not to worry about the small things and let God take care of them as he see best.
But as much as I’d like to be big and bold — some of the time — deep down inside, I feel pretty pitiful. So in moments when my big, bold guard is down a Pretty, Please Pitiful Prayer just slips out.
For me, alarm management is critical and lately even when the alarm has gone off at the right time — I lay there.
* * * * * * * * * *
Seeing cute sleeping boy and dear sleeping Wonderdog I did the unthinkable. I went to bed and left Tebow uncaged.
I do really stupid stuff when I’m tired.
* * * * * * * * * *
4:20 a.m.
I awoke with Secretariat on my chest.
Okay, it was Tebow but in a deep sleep it’s really hard to tell the difference between 65 pounds of black lab and a one ton thoroughbred.
4:22 a.m.
My alarm went off. But I was already out of bed. Imagine that.
4:30 a.m.
Checking emails, one sat in my inbox from a writer friend sent at 4:22 a.m. 4:22 a.m?
That meant she was up at her computer at least 10 full minutes before me.
Curses.
I’ve really got to set Tebow earlier.
