When in the world are you gonna check on me?

When I first moved to Jackson, my boss told me a story about his then 4-year-old daughter, Claire, coming down the stairs to his study to see when her parents were going to check on her. (She'd been waiting all of ten minutes, pretending to be asleep, for crying out loud.)

I've thought of sweet Claire's frustration several times in my life since then. First it was cute, then it was funny. And sometimes, no matter when it's occurred, it's been relative.

Tonight, for instance. I had a horrible day, capped off with not the greatest night, so every once in a while I'd look at my phone, put my hands on my hips as little Emma Claire did way back when, and wonder when in the world somebody was gonna check on me?

Thank goodness, we don't always get what we want. (Otherwise, we'd be spoiled.) We also don't always get what we need. (Otherwise, we'd just be satiated.)

Thankfully, we get what we get when we're supposed to get it, according to His Will. And the lagniappe is just a pocket of grace -- something special we fall into not because we deserve it, but just because.

So even though no one really checked on me tonight as I was "needing," I survived. As did Emma Claire all those years ago. As do we all.

So be it.