We have a large, unruly herd of cats at
our house. Having all those cats come around clamoring and yowling
during feeding time makes it hard for me to feel compassionate or
patient. That's why it's not usually me who feeds the cats. It's my
daughter, Sara.
Sara is a cat-lover, a hen-lover, a
dog-lover, an any-animal-lover. She takes very good care of the
animals around this place. However, last night there was a cat
situation, a “cat-astrophe” of sorts.
Very shortly after Sara went out to
feed the animals in the evening, she was back, crying at the door.
“Mom, what should I do? I'm such an
idiot!”
“What's the matter, Sara?” I asked.
I opened the door to see Sara cradling one of the calico cats in her
arms.
“Mom! What should I do? I always
check! Why didn't I this morning? Mom, I'm so stupid!”
“Sara, what happened?”
“I always check, but this morning I
didn't! This cat always goes in the food box and I always check
before I close it, but this morning I didn't. I wasn't even late!
Why didn't I check? And now look! She's shaking and what do I do??”
Frantic words and tears gushed out out of my tenderhearted daughter.
Those crazy cats! Whenever I go out to
feed them, a number of them are guaranteed to get their heads clunked
with a lid or their bodies motivated by a boot. I hate it when cats
jump in the rubbermaid tub containing the cat food. Evidently, there
is one in particularly who always does it and unlike me, Sara took
note of this one's propensity to be where it should not be and,
rather than clunking its head, gently removes it from the box before
replacing the lid. Except for this morning.
Evidently, the cat had spent this
relatively warm winter day trapped in a rubbermaid tub with more food
than it knew what to do with and significantly less water and air
than it needed. My first instinct was to say, oh, it'll be fine.
But then Sara set the cat down on the porch and the cat wobbled
around rather drunkenly. Her fur coat was looking a little sweaty
and her whole back-end looked rather matted and sickly. The
prospects didn't look so good.
“What do I do?” Sara's wail
brought me back to the task at hand. I am not so tenderhearted
towards cats but I am not as callous as to intentionally sentence a
cat to an untimely death in the cold. So I told Sara to bring it
inside. In between tears and self-berating, Sara held the cat while
I got a dish of water. The cat was not interested in water – not a
good sign. Sara wrapped the cat in an old towel I gave her. She
rubbed it down and held the shivering cat in her lap.
Now let me
tell you, this cat STANK! Having spent a frantic day in a dusty cat
food box, soiling itself and the food, it did not smell nice. It was
not a pleasant situation but Sara held it and calmed it for maybe
thirty minutes. Eventually, it started to make an
attempt at purring and she tried giving it water again. This time,
it drank and then drank some more and then drank again. The cat
drank a lot then climbed back onto Sara's lap. This drinking and
snuggling went on for some more time until the cat began to feel well
enough to shake less and wander about a little.
Though Sara was a
little nervous about bringing the cat back outside, we knew it would
be best for it to go back to its normal life with its companions in
the straw. Sara gently carried it outside, placed it inside the
straw tunnel where the cats sleep and stayed long enough to make sure
it wouldn't be expelled by its peers for smelling so bad. A
relatively happy ending to a traumatic day for the cat.
I was glad things turned out the way
they did for both the cat and my daughter. Even while she was
holding the shivering cat, Sara said she hoped this would be a story
we could all laugh at one day. I think we will. And while one can't
take this story too far as an analogy, I was also thinking about how
Sara's actions last night with the sickly, smelly cat remind me of
how God deals with us. We, like the crazy cat, sometimes get
ourselves into situations that are detrimental to our well-being that
we can't get out of by ourselves. God, in time, comes along and
opens the lid and lets us out; he holds us while we shiver and try
to get our bearings; he wraps us in loving kindness and gives us the
essentials of life, even when we're distasteful; and then, when the
time is right, he brings us back to the place where we belong.
The LORD appeared to us
in the past saying:
“I have loved you
with an everlasting love;
I have drawn you with
unfailing kindness.”
Jeremiah 31:3
For this is what the
Sovereign LORD says:
I myself will search
for my sheep and look after them...
I will rescue them from
all the places where
they were scattered on
a day of clouds and darkness....
I will search for the
lost and bring back the strays.
I will bind up the
injured and strengthen the weak...
Ezekiel 34:11, 12b, 16a
