Unanswered Prayers?

I have often wondered where the term unanswered prayer came from. God answers all prayers and just because it is not the answer that you were hoping for, does not mean that it was not answered. It is like when you were a kid and asked your mom for something, if she said no, you considered that as an answer right? But if God answers no, you say he didn’t answer your prayer, what’s up with that?

When I was 7 or 8, I loved cats, and I bugged my parents about it all the time. I started praying that my parents would get me a cat and one day I was trying to be smooth and showed my dad a picture of a Chihuahua and told him that since I couldn’t have a cat, I wanted a dog that stayed small like cats do. Come to find out, my dad went and told my mom that day that they needed to get me a dog. Christmas eve, I got a black miniature poodle named Rascal, he was not the cat that I asked for but I love all animals so I was excited. God answered no to the cat but gave me something better. Rascal was my best friend, I love him more than words can describe, I learned the meaning of unconditional love from him. He was perfect, when I was little, he let me dress him up in my doll’s clothes, he let me put a tutu on him and he would jump through my hula hoop and I taught him how to play tag. I lived out in the country so I couldn’t just go play with the kids in the neighborhood because there was no neighborhood, but that didn’t matter to me because I had Rascal. I grew older and many of my priorities changed but our relationship never changed, when I would go to camp, I would call home and the first thing I would ask about was him and I would make my mom put the phone to his ear. She said when I wasn’t home, he wouldn’t hardly eat and he would just sulk by my bedroom door. When I graduated from high school, I had made all the arrangements to move out the Monday after the Friday that I graduated, I had already found an apartment that allowed dogs, I saved up the $500 pet deposit, we were going to live in style! I had all of my stuff packed, my bed was even disassembled already but I wanted to sleep in my bedroom my last night at home so my mom set up my dad’s tiny little cot in my room and me and Rascal slept in our room for the last time. The next morning, I got up at 7:00 to start loading the trailer but it was a beautiful morning so I sat on the swing in the backyard thinking about how much I would miss living out in the country, I had the phone with me and my best friend/roommate to be called, I was talking to her when I heard dogs growling. One draw back to living in the country is that people dump stray dogs and a lot of the times they are mean. Amongst the growling, I heard Rascal yelp, I threw the phone and ran outside where I found 5 dogs attacking him, I jumped in front of him and started swatting at the dogs but as I would fight them off on one side, they would dive in from the other side. I finally got them to leave, and there stood Rascal, he looked ok, he had a large gash on one side but was in obvious pain, I screamed for my mom to call the vet, it was 7:45. I made a ramp so that he could walk into my car because he was in too much pain for me to pick him up. I arrived at the vet and he put him in a cage and said that he had to go look at some cows but would look at him as soon as he got back. I went home and we moved one load, then I went back to the vet to check on him, the bastard still hadn’t gotten around to looking at him, I went to see him and he was so weak, but he got up and came to edge so that I could touch him. It wasn’t until the next day that I got my first call at my new apartment, which was 30 minutes from my home town, it was my mom calling, I asked how Rascal was right away, she said “not good.” I could tell she was crying, I knew what happened, I just hung up and drove straight there in my pj’s. When I got there, they already had him boxed up and gave me his collar, we buried him under my favorite tree at my parents house. I still have his collar, all his pictures, and for some reason, I still can’t wash or get rid of the blood soaked towels 5 ½ years later. That kind of love lasts forever, he was not the cat that I asked for but he was the answer to so many prayers that I never had to pray. The next time God “doesn’t answer” your prayers, take a moment and look around, he has given you so much more, you can’t always get what you want but you always get what you need.