Thursday, March 21, 2013

The Least of Us

 



 I think God spoke to me this week.  

Before you stage an intervention, it wasn't in an "I hear angels and need to wear a tinfoil hat on my head to block out the demons" kind of way.  It was the kind of way where He gives you a wink and says, "Pay attention! You're about to see my fingerprints on something."  

We had some drama at our house recently; the kitten variety, to be specific.  Those of you who read my inconsequential updates on Facebook already know the gist of it.  This little snip of a kitten was abandoned by someone and left on our street.  She was just as friendly as she could be, purring and circling my legs as I approached the gutter to investigate.  So... I did the only thing any decent person would do (see how I rationalize?). I put out food and water bowls on our porch and made a little fleece bed for the kitten.  Naturally, one must consider how cold and dark it is at night, so one moved the bed, food, and water dish to our garage.  Along with the litter box I purchased for her.  

To say that she was snug as a bug in a rug, is an understatement.  To say that my husband was unhappy about the new addition to our family, which already included an anxious dog and elderly cat, is like saying my Grandma enjoyed televangelists.  It just doesn't even begin to cover the situation.  Every time Hubby would catch me sitting on the garage floor snuggling with kitty or calling her (by name- oh yes, I named the kitty) to come in for the night, he would shake his head, while muttering under his breath, "I really don't need this s*&% right now."  

What's a girl to do?  You just can't drop a cutie like that off at the shelter when you live in the country.  She'd have zero chance of distinguishing herself among the litters of kittens that get dropped off daily.  I did the only thing I could.  I tried to pawn her off on anyone and everyone I could think of with no luck. As for Hubby, as long as she was an outdoor cat, how much could they really run in to each other (I'm doing it again)?  

Besides the fact that you could cut the tension in our house with a knife, things were going just peachy.  Until...one morning after I let her our to do outdoor kitty things, she did not come back.  It was cold and rainy.  I kept hoping that she'd peep her little head out from behind a tree.  Me and the two little cat lovers in my house searched the neighborhood, calling her name.  No luck.  

I imagined wild dogs and the coyotes that could be heard outside our neighborhood at night licking their chops. By nightfall, I was whimpering like little Bo Peep who lost her sheep and needed a glass of wine.  Pathetic!  My six year old said, "Don't worry, Mommy.  Let's just pray for her to be safe and come home!"  Lilah, my four year old said, "How about we have a birthday party for her Mommy?  We can bake a cake for her and then she'll come home, for sure!"  

This just created more tears.  

By the time Hubby got home from work, I was puffy eyed and sullen.  Surely, it was his fault for not wanting her to hang around. Yeah, that's it!  

He sweetly spoke to the girls, who were pretty glum.  "I prayed for the kitty all the way home from work and I know that God is going to take care of her and make sure that she finds a good family."  

Whatever.

I'm not exaggerating when I say that ten minutes later I got a message from a mom in a nearby subdivision, who would just LOVE to adopt our little stray.  I'm thinking, "Why? Why couldn't I have gotten this message last night?! That would have been just too easy!" 

As we sat down to dinner, not ten minutes after that, guess what happened?  A neighbor pulled up in my drive way, after finding a sopping wet, angry kitten, who had wondered too far away from home.  Our sweet kitty had been rescued and returned to us after all!  I was just overjoyed.  And immediately, I contacted the wonderful family that had offered to give her a good, indoor home.  

"What did I tell you?" my Hubby said.  "I prayed about it and I knew that God would take care of her." At least he didn't say, "Ye, of little faith!!" But, he could have. 

It's so annoying when he's right.  

Sure enough, kitty is now settled into the perfect home, where she is the only pet and will be spoiled rotten, as any princess should be. 

This story means more to me than a happy ending.  It reminded me of something I had forgotten...something that every six year old remembers.  You see, when I was the same age as my oldest daughter, my kitten went missing as he was prone to do and I prayed first, worried later.  I had this unshakable belief that if I just gave the problem to God, it would be taken care of.  As an adult, I like to worry first, make some phone calls, analyze the situation to death, post a facebook update on it, and then pray. 

God answering our prayers about this tiny, insignificant creature was an awakening for me.  

"Oh, yeah... oh yeah... oh yeah. I'm supposed to pray first.  And then again.  And then some more."  

Because God cares about the least of us.  And if He can attend to the needs of one small, stray cat, then whose to say what He will do for you and me? I will leave you with a quote from Jesus, who said it best. 
 
Matthew 6:25-34

25 “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?

 



 





 

1 comment:

  1. God is so good!! I'm so happy Allie found a wonderful home right down the street from you. She really is cute as a button! xoxo -Annie

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