The last 2 days were detoured by our precious cat. She started doing some strange coughing, and her meows were sounding like a kitty in real pain. Her dreariness and all of sudden loss of appetite warranted a trip to the dreaded Vet.
At almost 11 years old she knows what it means when I pick her up and carry her to the car. The open carrier in the back seat is the sign to her of the worst place on earth to go.
Normally she begins a “wail” or “whine” before she fights me with her claws as I have to force her in to this prison for animals. However, her very sore throat allowed for the most pitiful sounds I have ever heard coming from her usual big mouth. She must have felt so bad she clawed the top of the carrier in an effort to stop this meeting where other strange cats and dogs end up in the same room with her.
Her determination not to attend this visit was worse than most. Finally I pushed her into the cat carrier but not before she showed me her sharp teeth which were ready to bite off the hand that feeds her.
As soon as the doctor checked her he gave her two shots; one for pain and the other was an antibiotic. The pain meds kicked in quickly but she was so exhausted she laid on the table with her head and little body as close to me as she could get.
The ferocious feline had suddenly become a very frightened little kitten who didn’t want the hand that feeds her to leave her alone for a second.
On the way home it hit me this must be the way God feels about us, his children.
We do what we can to claim our independence from the Creator of the Universe while he is doing what he thinks is best for us by getting our attention even if it hurts.
Trying to explain to a 10 year old, once feral cat she needs medicine is like God giving us his “book of life” that we place between two bookends, forgotten and unopened.
Her stubbornness to keep from getting what she needed is a reminder of how we fight God as he patiently waits for us to desire to seek him of our own accord.
But, like a ferocious feline as soon as fear sets in, we search for a Cross on a hill where we can fall into the arms of the one who created us.
Romans 8:15 “For you did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, “Abba, Father.”
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