Sitting on the floor

I don't want to keep looking. So, like a small child throwing a bit of a tantrum, I sit on the floor, arms folded, legs crossed, and a bit of a pout on my face. I look at my Father and say, "I don't understand what you are saying! I don't know what to do. I want it and you aren't giving it to me, so I will sit here and wait til it come by!"
As frustrated as I am, there is this place within me that wants to be obedient and to please my Father. Despite this, I don't know what to do. I look at what is ahead, what is around me and I am tired of the waiting, the looking, the disappointment, the confusion.

I wonder what my Father thinks and says. I wonder when he will answer and I will hear correctly.