The 'Wait' Command: What Feeding 8 Pitbulls Taught Me About Trusting God's Timing

If you want to see pure chaos, try feeding eight pitbulls without impulse control. In my house, the "Wait" command isn't a cute party trick—it's a matter of safety and survival. In this episode, we explore the discipline of the "Wait" command, why dogs must look at the master instead of the bowl, and what it teaches us about impulse control, trusting God's timing, and keeping our eyes on the Provider instead of the provision.

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Transcript

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Welcome back to the Abiding Trails Podcast. I'm Chassity, founder of Abiding Pause, where I create embroidered gear for men of bold faith who love their dogs and the outdoors. Over the past month, we've been on quite a journey together. We started with the question of who's really walking who on the leash. We looked at five things my pit bulls do that scripture says we should do. And we talked about why the pit bull breed isn't the problem, and neither are you. And most recently, we explored what letting my dog sleep in the bed taught me about belonging and rest in God. Today I want to talk about something that happens multiple times every single day in my house with eight pit bulls. It's a non-negotiable. It's a matter of safety, respect, and sanity. I want to talk about the wait command, or stay. If you've never tried to feed eight high drive, intense, uh passionate pit bulls at once, let me paint you a picture. Without structure, it would be absolute unmanageable chaos. Resource guarding, anxiety, potential fights, it would be a disaster waiting to happen. So in my house, we use the wait command. Before a door opens to the yard, they sit and wait. Before a food bowl touches the floor, they sit and wait. And watching my dogs with vibrate with anticipation while they wait for my release command has become one of the most accurate mirrors I've ever seen of how we behave while we're waiting on God. Titan, especially, is the worst of these. He definitely has the anxiety or um not the anxiety, but the the anticipation from the wait command down pat. He loves his food. So point one, looking at the master, not the bowl. Here's the rule for feeding time in my house. I lower the bowl to the floor, the dog is sitting, but they cannot eat just because the food is there. They have to leave the food alone, look up, and make direct eye contact with me. If they're staring at the bowl, they don't get the release word. They have to break their fixation on the thing they desperately want and look at the one who provides it. Do you know how hard that is for a pit bull or any dog for that matter? Every instinct in their body is screaming to the look at the food. Their whole world has narrowed down to that bowl. But they have to learn that the food isn't the source of their blessing, the master is. Hebrews 12 2 tells us to be looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith. How often do we act like untrained puppies when we want something from God? We stare at the bowl, we fixate completely on the bank account, the business goal, the relationship, the problem we want fixed, the trail we want to hike. We become entirely consumed by the provision. I'm honestly guilty of this myself. But God is standing there saying, look at me, break your fixation on the bowl, and look me in the eye. Remember who is actually providing this. The steward, the man you're called to be, has to learn to the discipline of keeping his eyes on the provider, even when the provision is sitting right in front of him, just out of reach. Point two, the agony of impulse control. If you watch a pit bull and a wait command, it's a full-body experience. They're physically vibrating, their muscles are tense. Sometimes they let out that high-pitched, quiet whine. You can see every fiber of their being wanting to move forward, but they're holding themselves back. To the dog, the waiting feels like torture, but to me, the master, the weight is about safety. It's about building a disciplined, trustworthy dog that won't run into traffic or start a fight over a dropped piece of food. The weight builds character. Psalm 2714 says, wait for the Lord, be strong, and let your heart take courage. Wait for the Lord. We hate waiting. We are wired to fix, to move, to conquer, to provide. When God puts us in a wait command, when the career isn't moving, when the prayers aren't being answered on the timeline that we want it to be, when we're stuck in a holding pattern while everyone else seems to be moving forward, it feels like torture. We vibrate with anxiety of wanting to take control. We want to break the command and force our way to the bowl. But God isn't making you wait to punish you. A man who cannot control his impulses will eventually destroy what he's trying to build. God is using the weight to build a disciplined, trustworthy steward who won't wreck his life the second the door opens. Proverbs 1632 puts it this way. Whoever is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he who rules his spirit than he who takes a city. Learning to rule your own spirit, that's more impressive to God than any external conquest you could achieve. Trusting the release. The final part of the wait command is the release. In my house, it's the word okay or break. The second I say it, all that built-up tension breaks, and they get to enjoy the blessing they've been waiting for. But here's the beautiful thing about a dog that has mastered the weight. They learn to trust the release. They stop panicking that they're going to starve. They start, they stop believing that this time maybe the master will forget to say okay. They learn that if the master puts the bowl down and says wait, the master will always eventually say break. They just have to trust the timing. Proverbs 3, 5 to 6 says, Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight. When God puts you in a holding pattern, do you trust His release or do you break the command, lean on your own understanding, and try to force the door open yourself? Breaking the wait command always leads to chaos, in dogs and in life. Trusting the Master's timing always leads to peace, safety, and ultimately the blessing he intended for you all to have all along. Learning to wait, learning to stand firm, and learning to keep your eyes fixed on what actually matters, that takes a man with backbone. A man who knows what he stands for and won't compromise even when the pressure builds. That's exactly the man I had in mind when I created our 1776 puff embroidery trucker hat. Those numbers represent a time when men had to stand firm and wait for liberty, trusting a process they couldn't control, but believing in principles worth the wait. It's built for the man who has learned impulse control, who knows his identity, and who doesn't break the command when things get uncomfortable. You can grab yours in the shop link in the show notes. Here's your challenge for this week. Where in your life has God put you in a wait command? Are you vibrating with anxiety, staring at the bull, trying to force your way forward? This week, practice the discipline my dogs have learned. Break your fixation on the provision. Learn or look the master in the eye. Trust that his timing is for your safety, your character, and ultimately your blessing. The weight isn't punishment, it's preparation. This is abiding trails. I'm chastity from abiding pause. Trust the weight, keep your eyes up, and I'll see you in the next one.