Stalkers

I know it sounds crazy, but I'm not paranoid.  We are being watched.  Ever since we moved into this house we have been relentlessly stalked.  I see them lurking.  I feel their eyes on me.  I know they're there.  In fact, it has become so bad that they don't even bother to hide anymore!  They chant from outside and taunt our children.  They pound on our doors and scream for our attention.
I don't know how much more I can bear!  I seriously consider moving every single day, yet we're still here enduring the terror.

Who are these invaders that have robbed us of our peace and stripped us of our privacy?  Who would have the audacity to violate us so profoundly?
Two little neighbor girls, that's who!  Sisters...one is five and the other a menacing six.  Apparently the rules regarding restraining orders against kindergarten kids are murky or we would have one issued!
Perhaps I exaggerate slightly, but really we have days that are utterly unbearible.  Other days are not quite so terrible...but could certainly be better, I'm sure!  I know I need to work on my attitude, but even as I write this they have convinced our kids that throwing rocks at our windows would be a fantastic idea!  Obviously my poor attitude is only half the problem!

We have lived here for four years, roughly, and I have noticed that the my feelings toward these little girls follow a particular pattern.  I call this pattern, Sarah's Four Stages of Frustration.

Stage 1)  Annoyance

Stage 2)  Intolerance

Stage 3)  Rage

Stage 4)  Apathy

None of these stages are healthy or helpful, even though I tend to linger in each emotion until I feel that I have thoroughly satisfied my discontent enough to escalate the intensity.  I find myself sucked into this cycle every time.  The only thing that seems to pluck me from my fury is when I catch a sideways glance of Jesus and He convicts me of my sinful heart.  How many times have I been the neighborhood bully?  When have I ignorantly steered a peer in the wrong direction?  How have I offended those around me?

When I consider myself as a mere neighbor to Christ, I can only imagine just how much he would like to move!  Instead, He invites me into his home.  He welcomes me to stay and is delighted by my company.  He insists that I return often and calls if time should go by without word from me.  He wants to know what I'm doing, who I've been with.  He desires my time and attention.   

A lawn chair strategically placed
by a short peeper. 

Come to think of it, I guess God is stalking me too.  That doesn't seem so bad.