The stairway in my cottage was last refurbished 40 years ago. (Think indoor-outdoor floral carpeting of kiwi green and sunshine yellow.) By leaving it in place we’ve seriously dated our decorating taste, but we kinda like it.

At the top of the stairs is a wooden swing-gate that’s “always been there.” If  opened, its tight metal spring quickly snaps it closed, assuring that both young and old won’t fall down the stairs. We all like that idea, except for one:

Jack.

When I go upstairs to write, I usually close the door at the bottom of the stairs so Jack doesn’t follow me. If he has dirty paws or plans to beg for treats or pester for a walk, it’s preferable that he not be upstairs. But once in a while, he noses the door open anyway and makes his way up. At the top, though, he’s stopped by the gate.

Jack is a big dog and could easily push it aside but usually just waits with pleading eyes, hoping someone will come along to open up for him. We wondered why he didn’t nudge his way through, since he often does that with other doors.

One day we decided to spy. When no one came to help, eventually he did get the gate open but not like we thought. Because the spring quick-snaps it closed, he had to shove hard with his nose, then endure a whack in the face on its rapid return, before sharply shoving it a second time to squeak through. Ouch.

On the days when I invite him to come upstairs, it’s a different story. No waiting. No pleading. No nose-shoving. No face whacks. When I  say, “Ok, Jack, c’mon,” he can bound up the steps, and at the top the gate is swung wide for him.

Jack’s “wait-or-whack” relationship with the gate reminds me of the Lord’s relationship with me. I often question which way I should go, much like Jack wonders if he can come upstairs. When I don’t get God’s go-ahead (which is probably his “not now”), I move forward anyway.

I proceed “up the steps” or in whatever direction I want to go, only to find I’m blocked when I get there. I can quickly interpret those spoiled plans as God being unfair or leading me astray, but of course he didn’t lead me there at all.

It’s taking time, but slowly I’m learning that the best way to “get upstairs” or to reach a goal I’m shooting for is to wait until the One in charge looks at me and says, “Ok, Margaret, c’mon.”

“I am the Lord, who opened a way…” (Isaiah 43:16)