Slime Monster

Where did this feeling come from, she wondered. This warm, want-to-hug-people feeling?

She had never wanted to hug anyone before. As a child, she had been forced to hug every relative hello, regardless of who they were and how she felt. That was not OK with her. In fact, she hated it. But she did it dutifully. She learned to see hugging people as a chore and to bury any feelings involved in it.

But now…she WANTED to hug people.

People in her family.

People in her church.

People at her prayer meeting.

People who befriended her.

People she knew.

People she didn’t know.

Even her pesky little sisters.

Where had this huggy part of her come from?

Then one day she read Romans 5:5. “…for we know how dearly God loves us and we feel this warm love everywhere within us because God has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with His love.”

Ahh! So that’s where it comes from, she thought! I’m so full of God’s amazing love that it oozes out of me every time I get near someone. I’m like some kind of slime monster!

And that was just fine with her.

 

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Not This Time

 

She looked at the time again and frowned.  3:30  Finally on the road, she did the calculation. Two and a half hours would get them to the main beach at 6:00. Then 15 more minutes to get to the wedding sight.  The wedding starts at 6:15.

It will be tight, but we’ll get there before it starts, she thought.

Then the delays started.

Stop for gas. OK, so this delay was necessary, but it added 5 minutes to her time table. They might miss the beginning of the wedding.

Relax. God is in control.

She thought back on all the times she thought she’d be late somewhere. She had learned to trust in His timing – that He could handle circumstances and traveling times and make everything work out just fine.

Not this time, she thought as  they raced towards the beach. We have too far to go and there just isn’t enough minutes.

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Besides, she didn’t know the exact spot the wedding would be held and was hoping to be able to follow someone who did. Now, they would be late and everyone would be at the wedding site. There would be no one to follow and they’d have to trial and error their way to the site. That would add even more minutes to the time table.

A while later, frustrated at having to slow down for traffic, she looked at the time again. 4:25. Her GPS told her it would take an hour and 40 minutes to arrive at the main beach. Adding the 15 minute drive to the wedding site, they would arrive at … 6:20. They would definitely miss the beginning of the wedding.

Relax. God’s timing is perfect.

Not this time, she thought, tears squeezing past her stressed-tight eyelids.

The wrong turn was totally her fault. She had pointed out the turn to her husband only after they passed it. Then, after making a u-turn and getting on the road she had indicated, it turned out to be the wrong one. Having to turn around again, she fretted over this avoidable delay. If only she had paid closer attention to the street signs instead of relying on her memory.

It’s OK. Trust God’s timing.

Not this time, she thought as she mentally kicked herself. It was now 5:25 with about an hour still to go.

A phone call from her sister, checking on their progress and informing her that the wedding was running late, helped calm her a little. But just a little. They were still many miles from the beach. They kept driving.

Trust God to get you there at the right time.

Not this time, she thought. Even if they reached the main beach on time, everyone else will already be at the site and there still won’t be anyone to follow.

Staring out the window, she watched as they drove through unfamiliar streets. She and her husband had thought they should go a different way, but the GPS said to go this way. They decided to trust the GPS.

Relax. Trust in God’s timing.

Not this time, she sighed with frustration. Even though the GPS had taken them a side way to avoid heavy city traffic and probably saved them 10 minutes, it was 5:45 and they were still 20 minutes away from the main beach.

You are in God’s hands. Trust in His timing.

Not this time, she thought. They’d probably get lost trying to find the actual site and end up missing the vows.

Another phone call a little while later, this time from her sister-in-law. They were just now leaving for the main beach and were willing to wait for her there so she could follow them to the wedding site.

See? It’s OK. Trust in God’s timing.

Maybe, but we’re not there yet, she thought begrudgingly. It’s 5:10 and we still have to get to the wedding site.

After following her sister-in-laws car for several miles, they came to the parking lot closest to the wedding site. She was amazed to see everyone still milling around in the parking lot. The wedding hadn’t even started!

I told you – God’s timing is perfect.

As she got out to join the rest of the wedding guests, she said, “I’m sorry, Lord. You were right. I CAN trust Your timing.

Even this time.”

A Spiritual Cold

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She wasn’t feeling right spiritually. Something was wrong but she couldn’t find the words to describe it. And she couldn’t think of any reason why she should feel that way. She had confessed all her sins, forgiven everyone, and had not neglected her time with God.

You have a cold.

What? No I don’t. I’m not sneezing or coughing or anything.

Not a physical cold. A spiritual cold.

A spiritual cold? What is that? How does a person’s spirit sneeze?

Think of it this way. Can you remember your first physical cold?

No, I was just a baby.

How does a baby feel when she has a cold?

Uncomfortable. Irritable.

Exactly. And what does that baby think when she has a cold?

Probably that she’s uncomfortable and doesn’t know why because she’s too young to understand colds.

Kind of how you’re feeling spiritually right now?

Yeah.

Just like a physical cold, this spiritual cold won’t last, and it will make you stronger as your spirit learns to handle the virus that caused it.

So good will come out of this cold – this spiritual cold? I may not feel well, and I can’t do anything to make it disappear, but at the end, I’ll be better off?

You got it!  Read Romans 8:28 when you get a chance.

She didn’t wait. She got out her Bible and read, “All things work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose.”

Even spiritual colds.

So even though she still had the cold, she rejoiced in God’s amazing promises and the work He was doing in her.

Hanging on

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She hung there, grasping the rope with one hand and wondering if she would be able to hang on this time. No matter how hard she had held on in the past, she had always ended up falling off. Her fingers just weren’t that strong.

She looked down. And wish she hadn’t. She already knew what lay below. Rocks strewn around, thorny bushes, putrid water. From experience, she knew the fall would hurt no matter where she landed.

She looked up, grateful to be hanging from the rope rather than down there. It was actually pleasant up here, she thought. Fresh air, blue sky, a sense of peaceful freedom. If only she could hang on.

Her thoughts were interrupted by some people who walked past her as she walked along the beach. She wasn’t really hanging by an rope. Actually, the whole hanging by the rope thing was a picture that had formed in her mind as she contemplated her new level of trust in God’s promises to her and in her growing grasp of her identity in Christ. She felt strong in her faith, peaceful trust that He can and will take care of everything that concerned her. It felt like she was hanging from a spiritual rope and enjoying the fresh air and blue sky. That’s fine for now, she thought. I’m not being tested. What will happen when I am? Will I fall like I’ve done every time in the past?

As you’ve practiced what I’ve told you to do, your fingers have gotten stronger. You can hang on. But if you do fall off,  you will get another chance. One of these times, you will no longer fall.

And she thought of some of the other ropes in her life, the ones she no longer had to fight to stay on: her belief in God, her salvation, and her faith that God will help her accomplish what He calls her to do. But this rope seems so much thicker than those other ropes. Her fingers could barely wrap around it. And she had fallen off this rope more than a few times already.

That’s how you felt when you first tried hanging from those other ropes. But with practice and perseverance, your fingers stretched and grew stronger. The same will happen with this rope.

So she relaxed and hung there in the air, hoping she wouldn’t fall, but confident that if she did, it wouldn’t be the end. With her amazingly patient and faithful God, there is always another chance.

Voices

Cast of Characters:

Voice One: a young girl, relatively new in the faith

Voice Two: the girl’s inner voice, whether her own or the Holy Spirit

Voice Three: the enemy (we all know who that is), sneaky quiet voice

Background: the young girl has been on a quest to learn about prayer in order to deepen her own prayer life

 

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Voice One: Prayer often seems so empty and unanswered. What am I doing wrong? God, why are You so quiet?

Voice Three:  Where is your Jesus now?

Voice Two: He’s giving you a chance to grow in your faith. But He’s smiling down on you. He knows how this will end, and He is so proud of you.

Voice Three: You should have this by now. You’re not good enough to pray.

Voice One: I’m so sorry, Father. I wish I was better at this. Would You teach me? I’ve tried all week to have a quiet time, but I just don’t know how to.

Voice Three: See? Nothing. He won’t answer you.

Voice Two: That’s just the enemy. Don’t listen to him.

Voice One: Really? Satan is involved in this? Why? I’m nobody.

Voice Three: You’re so right.

Voice Two: You are the daughter of the King. That makes you a target.

Voice Three: Nah. you’re no threat. Not worth Satan’s time. You can’t even pray.

Voice One: So if Satan can’t steal my soul because I belong to the Father, why is he after me?

Voice Three: I’m not.

Voice Two: He wants to keep you so busy worrying about your spiritual growth that you can’t enjoy life. He can’t steal your soul, so he’s trying to steal your joy.

Voice One: Hmmm… that makes sense.

Voice Three: NO! It doesn’t! Who cares whether you are happy or not? That’s just selfish.

Voice Two: If you have no joy, it’s hard to spread God’s love to others.

Voice One: So I should just enjoy who I am.

Voice Two: Right.

Voice Three: That’s just hiding your head in sand. You think if you ignore your problems, they will go away.

Voice One: So if I just focus on who I am, how do I grow?

Voice Two: Your Father is in charge of that.

Voice Three: That’s what they want you to think. It’s the easy way out. Growth takes work and discipline and plans.

Voice One: But don’t I need to work at it, make plans and discipline myself to follow through on them?

Voice Two: That’s just the enemy again. Don’t listen.

Voice One: Then how do I grow?

Voice Three: You won’t.

Voice Two:  Does a baby concern himself with how make himself grow? Or does he relax and allow his parents to be in charge? To lead him to what he needs – school, exercise, food – at the right times?

Voice One: I think I understand. I just have to enjoy being with My Father, and He will lead me at the right time into doing what I need to do to grow.

Voice Three: Mayday! Mayday! I think I’m losing her! All demons respond!

Voice Two: Uh, no. Cancel that request. You will leave her alone for now. Go!

Voice One: Thank You, Father, that You’re in charge and I don’t have to be. I can just relax and enjoy the life You’ve given me. You are amazing, God. There is none like You!

Welcome Home Party

“Will you go?” her boyfriend asked her. “You really should. You’ll love it and it’ll be good for you.”

“I don’t know,” she responded hesitantly. “There’s going to be a lot of people there.”

“So? It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

She didn’t know why she found it so hard to be around groups of people. Even going to the same prayer group week after week still caused her to get sweaty-hands-and-stomach-cramps nervous.

“But I don’t know anyone there.”

“You’ll make some new friends. Everyone is really nice.”

“I won’t know what to do.”

“They’ll tell you. The leaders are great. They will take care of you.”

“What if I can’t sleep in that room filled with women?”

“I’ll be praying for you.”

Finally she agreed, and within a week she was signed up and on her way.

The first night was filled with introductions, expectations, and a short teaching. Not too bad, she thought. Even sleeping on her little cot went better than she expected.

The next day was so full of activities and teachings that she barely had time to think about being nervous. Everyone was so friendly and helpful, looking out for her and making sure she was OK. By that night she had begun relaxing and went to sleep full of the presence of God.

The next day brought a time of worship, a last message, and some group discussions. Then it was time for lunch.

While she ate, she marveled at the acceptance she felt from these ladies. No one was judging or criticizing her. No one was expecting her to be any different than what she was. It was even OK for her to be quiet and silent most of the weekend. She was so completely accepted just as she was. She knew after lunch would be the closing session and then it would be time to leave. She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to lose the warmth she had experienced all weekend.

A sound brought her out of her thoughts. Music? Where was it coming from? She noticed all the other women had also noticed and were looking around for the source. The music got louder and louder, and now voices could be heard accompanying the melody. Suddenly the door opened and in came a line of men holding lit candles while singing along with the music. And in amongst the men was her boyfriend! They made a ring around the women and sang to them.  Most women were crying by then, and she was no exception. Only her tears were on the inside. The men were singing to them! The men were singing to her! She was loved and cherished and valued! She was overwhelmed!

On her way home, she struggled to put her feelings into words, to form a picture of what the weekend had been for her. And then she knew! It was her welcome home party!

That’s exactly what it was, she thought. I left God when I was young, just like the prodigal son in the Bible. Only I wasn’t smart enough to go back home like the son was. The Father had to come find me. We spent the last year walking together  along the road back towards His home as He taught me about His love. And now, I’m surrounded by my brothers and sisters – all who love and accept me because He does! This weekend, like the party the father in the Bible threw for his son, was the party my amazing Father threw for me!

And she was grateful that her boyfriend had been right.

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He’s Alive!

It was the first Easter after her encounter with Jesus and she was excited. Not just excited, but EXCITED. Jesus was alive! She had experienced His resurrection with Him during the previous week and was eager to celebrate His resurrection day.

As everyone went about their day, she told them the same thing.

“He’s alive!”

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“Yes, I know,” her mom said as she cooked a ham with all the fixings.

“He’s alive!”

“Yes, I know,” her sister said as she grabbed her overflowing Easter basket.

“He’s alive!”

“Yes, I know,” her brother said as he spread out his goodies.

“He’s alive!”

“I know.” another brother said as he looked through the TV guide.

But she knew they didn’t get it. To them, Jesus was more of a concept than a real person. They believed in Him, went to church to worship Him, prayed to Him, but they didn’t know Him. Sure, He was alive, but up in heaven where He’s watching them until He gets to come back. No reason to get too excited.

Disappointed, she spent the day with her family, celebrating bunnies and candy and family time.

The next year, she was anticipating the same thing. And her family proved her correct.

“He’s alive!”

“I know,” her mom said as she brought down the Easter baskets from the attic.

“He’s alive!”

“I know,” her sister said as she put plastic grass into each basket.

“He’s alive!”

“I know,” her brother said as he dyed hard boiled eggs pretty colors.

“He’s alive!”

“I know,” another brother said as he read the newspaper funnies.

They still didn’t get it, she thought. But someday they will.

On Sunday, after church and Easter baskets and family time, she left to go back to her house – a two hour drive. Halfway there, she stopped at a church hall to attend the prayer meeting as she usually did on Sunday evenings. She thought surely the people here would celebrate Jesus’ resurrection! After all, they knew Him just like she did.

And she was right! She had never seen them so happy, so excited!

“Jesus is alive!” said one person as he hugged her.

She watched in amazement as he left her to greet other people, dancing from one person to another. And he wasn’t the only person dancing! Everyone wore huge smiles, their faces almost glowing with their excitement as they greeted each other with “He’s alive!” and “Halleluiah!” When the meeting started, the praise and worship was longer and louder and deeper than she had ever experienced.

Thirty minutes later, she watched as the leader stood up to speak. “Jesus is alive!” he said to the group.

She shouted with everyone else, “We know!”

And they did.

I Need a Shower

For the last week, she felt dirty. Grimy. Well, not exactly. She knew each time she asked for forgiveness, she was forgiven. But that was more like a sponge bath. She knew she was clean, but she didn’t feel clean.

“Lord, I need a shower,” she told Him. “I need to be drenched in your forgiveness.”

She wondered how to make that happen.  Prayer? Confession? Fasting? Maybe she should talk with her pastor.

However, unseen by her, God had received her request and was making preparations His own way.

The night following her prayer, she was at the weekly prayer meeting. At the time for the teaching, one of the leaders stood up.

“Instead of a message tonight,” he said. “I think we need to all stand and repent before God. I don’t know why, but I think it’s important that we do that tonight.”

So she stood up with the others, and closed her eyes, and saw herself standing before the Father.

“Father, I’m sorry…” she began.

“Come here, Child,” He said with His arms open wide. She climbed up into His lap and snuggled with Him for awhile. Then, without anyone saying anything, she knew she was to go stand in front of Jesus.

“Are you ready?” Jesus asked her.

She nodded.

He poured His blood over her, cleansing her just as she had asked. But He didn’t stop there. After his blood, He poured His Spirit over her. Like a wax job, she thought, to preserve and protect me! And she worshipped her God in song.

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Later, thinking about it, she was amazed all over again. God had been good to fulfill her desire so quickly. Even more, He had not asked her to grovel, begging His forgiveness. He had given it freely! She didn’t have to do anything. He had done it all!

Field of Flowers

She once again closed her eyes to spend some time with her Lord, and found herself in a field of flowers. She seemed to be as a small child, sometimes holding His hand, sometimes dancing around Him, as they walked.

“Look at all these beautiful flowers!” she said to Him.

“They are beautiful, aren’t they?” he responded as He looked at her.

There were so many different kinds and colors, she couldn’t help but laugh in amazement. She began picking some here, and some there, gathering as great a variety as she could manage to hold. When her hands were full, she offered them to Jesus. He smiled as He took them.

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In a twinkling of an eye, He took her to the throne room where He handed the flowers to the Father, then, just as quickly, they were back in the field.

“Look at the flowers,” He told her. “Look how they are all growing beautifully for the glory of the Father.”

She looked at them, then grew sad.

“What’s wrong?” He asked her.

“These are growing beautifully, just like You said. But the ones I picked are not growing anymore. I ruined them.”

“No, child,” He said gently. “You didn’t ruin anything. Even the flowers you picked were given to the Father. It’s all for His glory – whether growing or picked.”

He continued. “Be like the flowers.  Be the beautiful you He made you to be. Enjoy life, praising and loving Him, relaxing in His care, and sharing your beauty with everyone.’

“That’s easy to do, when I’m in a place as wonderful as this field. But what if someone picks me? What if they take me away from the peace and joy of this field?”  She was thinking about all the demands the people in her life place on her.

“Don’t resist them. Give yourself joyfully. And just like those flowers, you, too, will be given to the Father for His glory.”

She thought she understood. At least here, in this place, it made sense. She wasn’t so sure it would feel the same when she put it into practice.

“Will You help me?” she asked Him. “When people make their demands and take me from where I want to be, will You help me remember the flowers?”

“Of course.”

He took her hand, and they continued their walk through the field of flowers.

A Warning to Cat Owners

A Startling Discovery… Cats Can Read and Write!

Confiscated Letters from Our Rescue Cats

A collaboration, by Linda Schnepel and  BibleBloggerGirl 

 

The following are a collection of letters that we were shocked to recently discover . Seems our cats have more in common than just being rescue cats . They can read and write! I shudder to think how many times Cassi sat on my lap as I wrote in my journal, probably reading every word. But I have to credit her with one thing… she can keep a secret! It was just by accident that I stumbled onto these letters. I’m posting them here as a warning to all cat owners. Be careful what you write, whether by hand on by keyboard – your cat just might be reading it!

 

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Dear Miss Potter,                                                                I just read BibleBloggerGirl’s post about you and was moved to write to you concerning her attitude. She sure didn’t seem to appreciate your gifts very much, did she? And after all that work to spit them up at just the right times! I hope you thought of a way to change that!                                                                                                                   With much sympathy,                                               Cassi

 

 

Dear Cassi,
So nice to hear from you! I read about you in Linda’s post. Thank you for reading my girl’s posts. I know she appreciates it. I do try with my gifts for her, and she seems to be warming up to them! Do you ever give your Linda gifts that she doesn’t enjoy? Write soon! I think I’ll go find someone to feed me.
With purrs and rubs,
Miss Potter

 

Dear Miss Potter,                                                                                                                                             No, because I never give gifts. I AM a gift so why should I give them? They already have me!                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         Indignantly,                                                                                                                                             Cassi

 

Dear Cassi,
I didn’t think of it like that! I’m a gift too, and at least they appreciate me, if not my gifts! Who are the people you own?
Curiously,
Miss P.

 

Dear Miss Potter,                                                                                                                                               I own mostly a little girl who thinks I’m her best friend. But there’s also a smaller boy I try to stay away from, and two grown people. They’re a lot to manage but I get it done. Who do you own?                                                                                                                                                                                                                 Proudly,                                                                                                                                                     Cassi

 

Dear Cassi,
I mostly own that girl I was telling you about, the one who didn’t like my presents. I sit on her lap and sleep on her bed and follow her around. Never outside, though! I don’t go out there anymore. Do you?
The other people I own are a little boy I don’t like, an older boy that I tolerate, a woman who loves me devotedly, and a man who really doesn’t like me. I think if it weren’t for the girl, the man might start a mutiny against me. They are hard to handle sometimes, but I always put them in their place if they start acting out.
Lovingly,
Miss P.

 

Dear Miss. Potter,                                                                                                                                               Outside? Not since I was a kitten. At first my people wouldn’t let me in the house. They said it was for my safety, but I don’t know. I think I could have taken on that dog. In any case, they made a bed for me in the garage and left the garage door open a little so I could get in and out. As if that was as good enough. I wanted IN and I wasn’t afraid to show it! You would think climbing their screens and staring at them through the windows would clue them in!  I even chased the neighborhood dogs to show I could handle that puny one in the house. Eventually they let me in. And I never left. No way was I going to give them the chance to change their minds. I wanted to be with my girl as much as she wanted to be with  me.                                                                                                           So, your people can be hard to handle, too. Go figure.  People! Keeping them in their place sure is an ongoing struggle sometimes. Let me know if that man tries to start anything. I’ll come over and show him a thing or two.                                                                                                                                                           All my support,                                                                                                                                        Cassi

 

Dear Cassi,
Yes, I agree completely – humans are so clueless sometimes! And they can’t seem to make up their minds. When I first moved in, they kept me in the mudroom where all the shoes and coats are put – how undignified. They wouldn’t let me in the house at all! Then, they got these dogs (I don’t know why, as they should have been perfectly content with me) and brought me inside. After that, they wouldn’t let me out! Eventually, I saw that being inside made it much easier to keep the humans in order, so I remained there.
Do your humans ever leave you alone? Mine do that sometimes. They will put my food, water, bed, and litter box all in my girl’s room and shut the door… Then they don’t return for days! I have no laps to sit on, no one to talk to, no one to sleep on, and no one to pet me. I get lonely and sad, and when they do come back I am even happy to see the annoying little one.
Bye for now,
Miss P.

 

Dear Miss Potter,                                                                                                                                                I know it can feel bad to be left alone… even for just a few hours. Days must feel like an eternity!  Hey, this is might be stretching it a bit. All right, quite a bit. But I was just wondering if that’s how humans feel when they think God has left them. WE know better – God is always here. But THEY aren’t so wise. Actually, they can be quite dumb sometimes. Acting all lonely and sad just because they can’t see Him every moment of every day. Sometimes they act so spoiled. But I can’t really fault them too much. After all, I kind of like having my girl around 24/7 myself.  I just know that when she does leave for hours, she will be back. And that belief gives me so much peace that I fall asleep for a good part of the day. But when she’s gone longer than I anticipate and  I find myself starting to feel bad, I make myself jump up and find ways to keep busy. I especially enjoy batting those dazzling dust specks that sparkle in the sunlight – I never can resist anything that sparkles – and knocking everything off the shelves is quite fun too. I like to watch things fall and listen to what sound they make as they hit the floor. Some of those things sure get broken up, though.                                                                                                               That reminds me…  I was pretty broken up when my people found me.  I wonder who pushed me off a shelf. Hmmm… I’ve gotta go sleep on this for awhile.  Write when you get a chance. I always enjoy hearing from you.                                                                                                                                                         Sleepily,                                                                                                                                                      Cassi

 

Dear Cassi,
So nice to hear from you! You are so right about the whole humans missing God thing. When they don’t hear his voice or anything right then, they tend to get depressed or even panicky thinking God isn’t there anymore. But they will hear his voice again, they just have to trust that. Just like we trust that our humans love us and will come back.
Ooh, battling dust sounds like fun! I’ve never tried that before. One game I like is chasing crumbs across the floor. Have you played that one? It’s really a good time. Oh Cassi, you made me tired just reading that… I think I’ll go find my girl’s lap and curl up for a bit. Write soon! Always a pleasure reading your letters 😺
Sleepily also,
Miss P.

 

Dear Miss Potter,                                                                                                                                             Yes, I have chased crumbs, and ribbons and spiders and laser lights. I especially love those laser lights! My humans laugh at me for chasing what they call silly things. They love to watch me but they don’t get it. It’s not about the things. It’s about the chase. Just like with God. It’s not about all the books and studies and sermons – those are all fun and all – but it’s about  hearts chasing after God. And I bet He’s not laughing about how silly it looks. He’s laughing because He enjoys watching the chase.                                                                  You know in my last letter that I wondered who pushed me off the shelf? I think I got it figured out. It was … no, probably not. Got to sleep on it a bit longer.                                                                                                                                   Cassi

 

Dear Cassi,
Ribbons are fun too! You are absolutely right about the chase – that’s what’s fun 😺
The humans do look silly, knowing what God tells them to do and not always doing it, don’t they? Although, sometimes my humans do know what’s better for me than I do, and I won’t listen to them.
What were you going to say about the one who pushed you off the shelf? I’m curious.
Miss Potter

 

Dear Miss. P,                                                                                    I hesitate to say this because it seems so far-fetched, but I believe it was God who pushed me off that shelf. That seems like such a mean thing to do, and God is not mean. So it’s hard to think He would do such a thing. But then, if I had stayed on that shelf (the place I was born, with my mom and siblings), I would never have been found by my people, and I couldn’t have been my girl’s best friend when she needed me most. So really, it was a good thing I got pushed off the shelf. Even though I did break a little, it was only temporary and probably made my people love me all the more. It reminds me all over again how we only see what’s in front of our noses, while God sees the bigger picture.                                                                                                                                

IMG_20180326_011903589On a different note, have you noticed anything… weird about your girl lately? It seems like my girl is looking at my strangely, like she knows something about me. And she’s starting to minimize her computer screen whenever I jump up on her keyboard. Almost like she doesn’t want me to see what she’s been writing. Hey, do you think it’s possible she has found the letters you’ve written me? That would be horrible! We’re not supposed to let ever them find out we can read and write! Maybe we’d better stop writing to each other!                                                                           With Some Anxiety,                                                              Cassi

 

Dear Cassi,
I think you could be right about God doing that for you. Sometimes his plans don’t show themselves right away, but there definitely was a reason for your family finding you.
You know, you are right! My girl has been doing similar things with me. Maybe we should stop writing to each other, at least for a little while, so they will stop suspecting anything.
With much love (and a little sadness that I won’t hear from you for some time),
Miss Potter

 

 

There you have it – proof cats are way more capable than we could ever imagine!  Anyone else have a similar experience with their cat? What unlikely things have you caught your cats doing? We would love to read them in the comments. And we promise not to let our cats look!

And in case you’re curious, here are links to our posts about our cats.

Just Like… The Kitten in the Woods

Can I Get a Cat?

Miss Potter’s Gifts