Waiting for me

It’s early yet as the golf cart rolls to a stop in front of the camp kitchen. I head for the door: I’ve got laundry to do. Three steps later, there Angel is: running, wagging her tail and doggy-smiling. I blink. This is different. Sure she’s been here every time I’ve come up here for the past two days, but she’s always just lain there and morosely looked at me as I came and went. 

But here she is this morning. I guess she’s decided that if she can’t have the multitude that she’ll make do with one. I pat her head and find her a stick. A few minutes later I head off. Angel sits in the road and watches me go. 

I come back, once, twice, three times, and always she’s there. Delightfully happy to see me, sad when I leave. 

It’s evening now. I’m done up here, well, for today anyway and as I head off I turn to Angel. “I’ll be back tomorrow, but you could just go home. The rest aren’t coming back.” She doesn’t answer, just sits there with mournful eyes and watches me go. 

And that’s when it hits me. 

My God? He waits for me too.  And even though He has a multitude, He isn’t satisfied to miss just one. 

Always, when I come, He’s there. Smiling soft, welcoming me with joy. And always, when I leave, He sadly watches me go…. Longing for the day when I won’t leave Him any longer. 

And really, I don’t have to. And honestly, I don’t want to. The same God who beckons me into His presence each morning, who waits for me to come to Him, is the same God who promises that if I ask He’ll never leave me alone and that He’ll walk beside me every step of the way. 

He waits for me. Beckons me Home and greets me with joy. And this time, I ask only that when I have to go and face the world, that He will never leave me and that He will keep me by His side. 

For forever and a day.