A Blessing and A Curse

Last updated on: August 22, 2014 at 3:53 pm by Rebecca Frech

A Blessing and A Curse 2014-08-22T15:53:09-05:00 Rebecca Frech

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I hate my neighbor’s dog. I’m a dog lover and like most of them, especially gorgeous German Shepherds like the one next door. I owned a German Shepherd once, and he was my favorite dog in a life filled with lots of them. I hate the one next door. He won’t shut up.

Last night, the backyard beauty barked from just before midnight until just before dawn. He wasn’t barking at anything in particular, just sitting on his porch by the back door and barking. Non-stop, did I mention that part? Or how the houses in our neighborhood are pretty close together even though it doesn’t seem that way? Or that I’m already sleep deprived because of #6?

Anyway. Barking. All night. He set off our dogs at 2AM and the wonderful Computer Guy got up and let them inside. What’s the big deal? They were muddy after an afternoon of hard playing (which is why they were sleeping outside until I could bathe them) and he had to towel them off before letting them in the house. Have I mentioned how much I love him?

The German fellow kept barking. I don’t know if his owners are deaf or just bad neighbors. Does it really matter when I’m trying to catch a few precious moments of sleep? No. It does not.

I laid there in my bed for most of the night and listened to the sweet, gentle breathing of my baby as he curled up into his father’s back. I heard the deeper rumblings of my sweet husband as he muttered to himself and then scooped our newborn onto his chest and sighed. He pats the baby’s bottom as he sleeps. It’s just instinct now for his hand to keep patting the warm lump curled up next to his heart.

I prayed. Deeply, quietly talking with my Lord about the blessings in my bed and those sleeping down the hall. I discussed with Him my fears for my children and asked for His help to keep them on the straight and narrow. I thanked Him for the blessing of 4 boys and asked for the strength to live through it all. I asked Him to guard my children, not from mistakes which instruct them, but from the big errors I made which still cause my heart to ache. I told him how I wanted only the best for my girls, whichever path that takes. I told Him that I hope that my children become people who instinctively scoop a squirming baby onto their chests and pat them back to sleep. I asked for His help to get them there.

I always mean to pray during the day, but rarely have time for anything but a quick ‘Hello.’ Last night I had time for a long conversation. All because of that stupid dog.

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