Worry? Who, Me??

Whew! What a crazy couple of days spent worried sick over a dog!? What happened to my faith?? What happened to praying and believing? What happened to trusting the Lord with all my heart?? Friends are bringing meals over??! People are calling and writing to see how my DOG is doing?? Where did my balance go and how on earth did I let it get so lopsided? The week started off great, like any other week, except my baby, Buster, seemed tired. I carried him to the back yard and while holding him I prayed, Lord, please heal my puppy...I love him and thank you for always hearing my prayers according to your will. Amen. He got worse...now he can't walk. Monday morning, even though my sister who has worked on animals for 30 years, tells me it's gas, after I give her all symptoms, I get more and more uneasy. So, off I run to the nearest animal hospital. I won't go through all the stuff that entered my brain, but none of it was hopeful. After all the testing, X-rays, and examinations, they tell me it's gas. However, they want to run several more tests just to make sure. Well, the bill is already passed five hundred, so I decline and take Buster home. Now, I'm on the phone with my sister every thirty minutes with the next thing to do. There's no sleep and now fear has consumed me. He is licking a little yogurt though...and he did drink some water, but still, fear is there. I'm now crying, wondering why isn't he running with the other puppies? Tuesday, no sleep for three days...missed bible study, missed lunch with a friend, missed helping another friend. I'm now so tired and worried that I just can't do it anymore, so I let go. I finally get sleep, I finally eat. Buster is better. Now, I'm embarrassed and upset with myself. Oh me of little faith... The Lord couldn't have sent anyone better than my sister, but because I had allowed this fear in, not even the animal hospital could comfort me. Why? Because there's something about caring for something that can't tell you exactly what is wrong... Like a baby, it's horrible when you can't get them to say what hurts. There is something about verbalizing what's wrong that can ease a burden. I never went to the Lord asking Him to take my fear...to fill me with hope. All that worry had nothing to do with Buster getting better. I pray the next time fear comes in, I verbally ask the Lord to shield me and fill me. I pray I remember this loss of four days and the peace I needed to feel from the Lord. There's a huge difference between being concerned and being worried sick. Did it really show how much I love my dog, or did it show how little I trust the Lord? Let me pray next time, like Peter prayed, "Lord, I want to believe...help me with my unbelief...". Now, time for me to go eat crow....