I wanted to share a story with you that helped to bring about a turning point for me this week. As you all know, my big brother went to be with Jesus almost 3 weeks ago. As some of you do not know, I have had a really hard time with it. Grief - yes, but at times I also felt myself slipping into depression. I didn't want to see or talk to anyone. I rarely answered my phone. I only did what I absolutely had to do - and had to make myself do that! It was a dark, lonely place, and I wasn't sure how to escape it. But I knew that I really needed to. Enter - the cat...
One of our cats disappeared a while back, and our tom cat, Cloudy, was acting kind of lonely. We also were starting to see more mice around, so we decided to get a new companion for Cloudy. On Wednesday evening, after prayer meeting, we went pick out our new feline of the female persuasion. Mike works with a guy whose wife is cat crazy and has 20-30 cats of all shapes and sizes. "Wonderful", I thought, "We'll get our pick!" After looking them over (which was a challenge in itself, because they were not "house cats" who were used to being held and petted) we decided on an all black, young female who would let Katie and I hold her without trying to tear us in pieces in her attempt to get away. She rode quietly on my lap all the way home, and we decided to name her Molly.
We had decided to keep Molly inside for a couple of days so that she could get used to us and realize that this was her home now. We showed her where the kitty litter, food, and water were, and then I let her down. First mistake! Things had been going fine up until this point, but now Molly was off like a shot - dashing under the furniture for cover. We went to bed, and everyone drifted off to Neverland - except me. I seemed to be the only one who heard Molly's plaintive cries, so I went down periodically to check on her. At this point, she was holed up under the bathroom sink. She didn't eat or drink, or use the kitty litter (although she did go to the bathroom in various places). The next morning, she was no where to be found. It wasn't until afternoon that we found her hiding in a corner behind the dryer. But she refused to come to us, or let us near her at all. That night, I again listened to her lonely cries, and contemplated our options. I mean, how crazy is that! She has the whole house to explore, and she stays secreted away in a small, dark place. She has food and water (and kitty litter - hint, hint!), but she avails herself of none of it! We try to get close, to reassure her of our good intentions. We want to love her, to snuggle her. We want her to be our kitty! But she refuses. Suddenly, I feel like King David when the prophet Nathan got done telling him a story and proclaimed, "Thou art the man!" It felt like the Holy Spirit was showing me plainly, "Thou art the cat!" (Now, at this point, any of you who ever questioned my sanity, have real grounds for concern:)
But this was my turning point. Like the cat, I was holed up in the dark place of grief and isolation while all the time God had a great storehouse of Grace and Love for me to explore. He had made provision for all of my needs - my hurt, my grief, my confusion, my loneliness - but I did not avail myself of any of his provisions. He was there, trying to help and comfort, extending His hand of mercy to me, but I was too afraid. Afraid of what? Who understands better than God the reality of loss, of pain, of death. Who cares more than God about our burdens, our distresses. How crazy was that cat? How crazy was I! But God is so faithful - so loving - so wise. He remembers that we are dust - and sometimes we're dustier than usual.
So, I'm on my way back! I'm on my way out! I'm on my way up! I'm not there, but I'm on my way.
Great is thy faithfulness - thy mercies are new every morning!
