I love kittens. I love cuddling them and listening to their soft purrs telling me they enjoy being loved. My dad had a friend with a big barn. Feral barn cats were always available to any little girl in need of a kitten but feral barn cats are not trusting animals. I think they are a lot like people. I'd like to share a story of one of my kittens.
You came to me in a shoebox from Patti’s barn. You were a feral kitten, afraid of your own shadow, and especially of mine. I held you on my lap as Daddy jerked the stick shift over the rough country roads. I turned you loose in a basement filled with greasy car parts, Mama’s washtub, and clutter. You made a mad dash for the cover of Daddy’s long workbench. I called, “Here Kitty, Kitty” and brought you a bowl of warm milk. You were tucked deep under the bench. I could barely see the white tip of your orange tail as you curled in the corner. “Here Kitty, Kitty.” You didn’t move a muscle.
I wanted to feed you and give you a soothing rub. I longed to hear your kitty purr. For hours I sat and waited. Sometimes I spoke soothing words but mostly I just called, “Here Kitty, Kitty.” You must have been hungry. Late in the evening, your green eyes shone in the shadows as they peered out into the darkening basement. “Here Kitty, kitty.” You retreated to your corner. Perhaps tomorrow, I thought, as Mama called me to supper. I slipped out the door and left you to your own devices.
In the morning, the bowl was empty. I brought fresh milk. “Here Kitty, Kitty.” You turned as if to sniff the fresh warm milk wafting in the musty basement air. You padded to the edge of the workbench. I must have moved. You quickly retreated to your corner. There I sat again, waiting hour after hour. Sometimes calling, mostly sitting, just letting you know I was there. You crept to peep from under the workbench again. Gingerly you placed one paw into the sunlight streaming from a window onto the cement floor. I barely breathed. Then you ventured another paw. Your eyes never left me, questioning the safety of the open space. You crept out to the warm bowl of milk that by now was only lukewarm. Your tongue lapped into the milk but your eyes were on me. I smiled and reached to touch your ruffled orange fur. You skittered back under the bench.
Another hour and you crept to the edge of protection again. When you came to the bowl, I sat still. I waited to hear a purr. When after a few slurps, your motor began, I reached out again to touch, not to rub but to touch. Just the light touch of my hand on your back sent you scrambling again. This time it took only a few minutes and you returned to the bowl. I tried again when you cranked up your motor. This time you allowed my hand on your back. You allowed the light rub across your head. Your eyes were on the milk. A trust, a bond that belonged to no one but the two of us began.
You were a good kitty, using the tray of litter I placed near your hide-out from the beginning. You didn’t climb or scratch or destroy. Dare I let you into the yard? Only when I could put you into my lap and hear you purr because of us, did I trust that the door could be opened.
You were a good kitty who came when I called. You caught the mice as your country mom had taught you. You scratched up trees to escape the dog or chase a squirrel. You wound around my tanned legs and rubbed your soft head against my hands. I fed you and played yarn-ball. You allowed me to dress you in doll clothes. I held you, read stories to you, stroking your fur, and listening to your purr. You were my kitty, and I was your person. We had bonded in a musty basement with a bowl warm of milk.
God calls us coaxing us with tender love just as I called my kitten. In our heads we know we should respond but our human instinct is to fear and shy away. Often Jesus has to wait patiently for us to turn loose of ourselves and trust Him.
Have you trusted Jesus as your Savior? Have you given yourself to His will? What are we waiting on? Jesus waits patiently with loving arms to hold us, feed us and calm all our fears. He longs to hear us speak to Him from our hearts. He longs to bless us from His word and bond our hearts together eternally.
Trusting Him for daily blessings,
Gail
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