go-to person. I would read my articles to him on the phone, and he would spot potential problems and flag them. I became extremely dependent on him for this assistance.
Finally, my dad decided that I needed to be “weaned.” He sensed that part of me resented my dependence on him. He thought I’d done my job long enough to have some decent judgment of my own. But like Munchie all those years later, I resisted.
Then Dad got cancer.
Suddenly, depending on Dad was no longer an option. But the weaning didn’t stop there. I had two colleagues I relied on as well. One left the organization. The other was in a freak accident that caused her to be unavailable to me for many weeks.
Humanly, I was howling and scratching at the door. But I had not been abandoned. I knew Jesus, and He was right there with me. Looking back, He was doing a work in me, growing and stretching me in ways I would not have chosen for myself. Ultimately, my dad passed away, but I kept writing and grew personally and professionally from the experience.
Jesus’s disciples also went through a difficult weaning process. They had gotten used to His physical presence. But the time had come for Him to go to the cross. He told them He wouldn’t be with them much longer and was going where they couldn’t come (John 13:33). They didn’t like this, especially Peter. Peter howled and scratched at the door. He asked his Lord, “Why can’t I follow you now? I will lay down my life for you” (John 13:37).
Jesus knew better. He knew Peter would deny Him. He also knew He wouldn’t abandon Peter. Peter wasn’t being forsaken; he was being refined and stretched and prepared for leadership.
Munchie is a happy, confident dog whose horizons have been greatly expanded by not needing to be joined at the hip to me. After Dad’s death, I went on to write animated TV shows and books like this one. And though Peter initially denied his Lord, he was restored and went on to preach at Pentecost and assume a key leadership role in the early church.
Our loving heavenly Father knows just when and how we need to be weaned. He knows just when we are ready to take the next step. And He promises to be right there with us in that process. So when God beckons you out of your comfort zone, don’t howl—embrace the new adventure!
But very truly I tell you, it is for your good that I am going away. Unless I go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you (John 16:7).
Consider This:
Has God ever called you to be weaned in a way you didn’t feel ready for? How did you respond? What was the result? What did you learn that might encourage someone else who is in a weaning process?
Now You See Her, Now You Don’t
Believing Is Seeing
Faith is to believe what you do not see;
the reward of this faith is to see what you believe.
S T . A UGUSTINE
W hen Meaghan first started learning tae kwon do at the tender age of seven, her dad told her she could have the dog she yearned for—once she earned her black belt.
Meaghan stretched, kicked, and punched her way to puppy ownership. She went to a number of breeders, saw a lot of dogs, but Max the tiny Yorkie towered above all the rest.
They became inseparable friends. When Max was little she brought him to visit her dad for a weekend. She had a babysitting job that night and was gone for many hours. When she returned, she found Max curled up on her sweatshirt. Max had recognized Meaghan’s scent on the shirt and refused to move until she came back.
Max didn’t have separation anxiety issues when Meaghan popped out on short errands to the store or even when she spent the day at school. He knew she’d be back in a reasonable period of time. But after years of childhood bonding and daily routine, it came time for Meaghan to go off to college. She would be absent for much longer periods of time than a babysitting job or a day in high school—and Max always knew.
He would sit on the stair-step he always
Finally, my dad decided that I needed to be “weaned.” He sensed that part of me resented my dependence on him. He thought I’d done my job long enough to have some decent judgment of my own. But like Munchie all those years later, I resisted.
Then Dad got cancer.
Suddenly, depending on Dad was no longer an option. But the weaning didn’t stop there. I had two colleagues I relied on as well. One left the organization. The other was in a freak accident that caused her to be unavailable to me for many weeks.
Humanly, I was howling and scratching at the door. But I had not been abandoned. I knew Jesus, and He was right there with me. Looking back, He was doing a work in me, growing and stretching me in ways I would not have chosen for myself. Ultimately, my dad passed away, but I kept writing and grew personally and professionally from the experience.
Jesus’s disciples also went through a difficult weaning process. They had gotten used to His physical presence. But the time had come for Him to go to the cross. He told them He wouldn’t be with them much longer and was going where they couldn’t come (John 13:33). They didn’t like this, especially Peter. Peter howled and scratched at the door. He asked his Lord, “Why can’t I follow you now? I will lay down my life for you” (John 13:37).
Jesus knew better. He knew Peter would deny Him. He also knew He wouldn’t abandon Peter. Peter wasn’t being forsaken; he was being refined and stretched and prepared for leadership.
Munchie is a happy, confident dog whose horizons have been greatly expanded by not needing to be joined at the hip to me. After Dad’s death, I went on to write animated TV shows and books like this one. And though Peter initially denied his Lord, he was restored and went on to preach at Pentecost and assume a key leadership role in the early church.
Our loving heavenly Father knows just when and how we need to be weaned. He knows just when we are ready to take the next step. And He promises to be right there with us in that process. So when God beckons you out of your comfort zone, don’t howl—embrace the new adventure!
But very truly I tell you, it is for your good that I am going away. Unless I go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you (John 16:7).
Consider This:
Has God ever called you to be weaned in a way you didn’t feel ready for? How did you respond? What was the result? What did you learn that might encourage someone else who is in a weaning process?
Now You See Her, Now You Don’t
Believing Is Seeing
Faith is to believe what you do not see;
the reward of this faith is to see what you believe.
S T . A UGUSTINE
W hen Meaghan first started learning tae kwon do at the tender age of seven, her dad told her she could have the dog she yearned for—once she earned her black belt.
Meaghan stretched, kicked, and punched her way to puppy ownership. She went to a number of breeders, saw a lot of dogs, but Max the tiny Yorkie towered above all the rest.
They became inseparable friends. When Max was little she brought him to visit her dad for a weekend. She had a babysitting job that night and was gone for many hours. When she returned, she found Max curled up on her sweatshirt. Max had recognized Meaghan’s scent on the shirt and refused to move until she came back.
Max didn’t have separation anxiety issues when Meaghan popped out on short errands to the store or even when she spent the day at school. He knew she’d be back in a reasonable period of time. But after years of childhood bonding and daily routine, it came time for Meaghan to go off to college. She would be absent for much longer periods of time than a babysitting job or a day in high school—and Max always knew.
He would sit on the stair-step he always
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