I admit I was disappointed when God leaned out of Her kitchen window and dropped a string of black pearls in my outstretched hand. I was dreaming of chests upon chests of gold and silver coins and rubies and diamonds and emeralds, truckloads.
And then all I got was a crummy string of black pearls?
This was only my latest method of overlooking a dazzling gift.
Funny thing is, all that pirate's treasure I was fantasizing over, it would have been a burden to possess. I'd have been like a miserly old dragon sitting atop a mountain of jewels and never leaving for fear of someone coming along trying to steal a coin or two.
After She dropped those pearls in my paw, She said to stop by anytime. I guarantee that no matter what She gives me next time, I will initially be disappointed yet again. And I will let Her know by moping away grumbling under my breath yet again.
Still, no matter how much of a brat I am -- and I can be a famous brat -- She does not become irritated with me. She only calls after me to return anytime.
This is love of the highest order, just as the sun does not demand displays of gratitude from the earth.