Quigley is in the crate as I write this in the late afternoon of Wednesday. I put him there because he was deliberately attacking the couch to get my attention. I figured he would scream a bit and then quiet down, as he did this morning, and I'd go tell him what a good boy he was and let him out. Instead, he's been shrieking for nearly half an hour. My resolve is wavering. My mind fills with doubts of the rightness of what I'm doing, even though everything I've read and even the vet said you absolutely must not take him out of the crate while he's screaming.
This was so not my intention when I put him in there. Now I only want him to be quiet for a few minutes so I can let him out. But he's not letting up.
I wonder how often we are like that with God. If He isn't up there tapping his foot, waiting for us to submit to the situation and accept it and stop complaining and demanding and howling about it. If only we'd stop and be silent for a bit, he'd come and open the gate -- which He dearly wants to do -- and let us out. But first we have to learn the lesson... The blessing and release come in His timing, not ours.