So not long ago, this cat took up residence under our storage barn in our backyard and proceeded to have kittens under there. There are four of them and they are adorable. And apparently they have all decided they live here now. Of course the fact that I have been feeding them for weeks may possibly have something to do with why they are still here lounging around on my patio.
The momma cat is evidently feral (which I recently discovered basically means wild) and will have nothing at all to do with me. In fact, if I start to walk towards her to put food in the dish, she’ll hiss at me like she’s going to tear my head entirely off my shoulders. And then I scream and jump and she runs under the barn. This is how we roll. Hiss, scream, jump, run.
But what’s cracked me up in the last few days is that I’ve noticed that the momma and the kittens (which aren’t all that little anymore) seemed to have realized that we’ve developed a little routine here, and so at about the same time each morning and each evening, they start coming out from under the barn and meandering around the patio. It’s like they know it’s time for food. And yesterday, at about feeding time, I happened to glance out the window and the momma cat was sitting there, looking back at me. If cats could tap their foot, I imagine she would have been tapping hers as she waited impatiently for me to come out with her dinner. But then, guess what. Same routine. I come out, walk to the food dish, she hisses, I scream and jump, and she runs under the barn. Good grief, how long have we been doing this thing for crying out loud? So I dump the food in the dish and sit in the patio chair and eventually she comes out and eats and we’re good. Good, of course, meaning that I sit as still as possible, no sudden movements, I don’t dare even think about trying to pet her and she eats while taking side glances at me between bites to make sure I’m not looking at her. All this time of feeding her and not even trying to touch her or the kittens, and she still doesn’t trust me.
And it occurred to me today how much that can be like my relationship with God sometimes. All this time we’ve been doing this thing and I still act like I don’t trust Him half the time. Never once has He withheld His blessings, never once has He been anything other than good to me and I still bristle at His hand. All this time that I have seen His goodness and His outpouring of grace, all this time that He has called me His and welcomed me into His holy family and I still act feral, operating in my own instincts and lashing out at Him like He’s some stranger I just met. And I wonder if sometimes, God just looks at me and says, “Girl, how long have we been doing this thing and you still don’t trust me?
The Bible gives a description of love in 1 Corinthians 13:4-7
Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude.
It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
The Bible also tells us that God, Himself, is love (1 John 4:8). And when I read that description of what love is, knowing that God is Himself all those things, I can’t help but wonder what synapse in my brain is misfiring for me to think that God wouldn’t be trustworthy or that He wouldn’t always without a doubt have only good intentions towards me.
So I’m reminding myself of this, as I remind you, too, friend. That God is good. He is all good, through and through, all the time, and there is no darkness in Him. His love for His children is unmeasurable and His blessings flow like a beautiful river that has no beginning and no end. He sought us out, loved us before we even knew what love was. He is faithful even when we are not and He is kind even when we are wild and self-serving.
Have you been fighting Him? Always on your guard in His presence, afraid to leave your wilderness behind and completely surrender yourself to Him? He can be trusted, sister. He is for you, brother. Do it…give Him your fears, your doubts, your worries, your shortcomings. Come in from the wild, ya’ll and feast at His table. There’s plenty of goodness to go around.
2 thoughts on “My feral cat and God’s wild kids”
Jenny, I think in the body of Christ, you are his eyes! Love you! Thank you for sharing your heart and your eyes!
Love you too, sweet friend!!