Catitude

My cat, Bella, owns this neighborhood.  Her reputation as Rodent Hunter is known far and wide.  When other cats approach her, she quickly dispatches them, then has the gall to enter their homes to feast on their food!  Although our new puppy will often try to test her, she thwarts every attempt with a hiss and a quick swipe of her claws. 

The truly amazing thing about all of this is her size.  She is, by far, the smallest, most petite cat around, not to mention that she wears a sparkly pink collar with a bell on it.  Hardly a fitting image for one with the reputation and alias of Kitty Wahlberg.

This kitten has catitude, a word here which means that it's not the size of the cat in the fight, but the size of the fight in the cat that matters.  She has confidence. No fear.  Because she is always ready to engage, she frequently doesn't have to.  Or, only has to once.  I frequently catch her studying her reflection in the mirror.  Does she see something the rest of us do not?  Or is she giving herself a little kitty pep talk, "Think big to be big" or "You are more than what you have become." 

I don't know too many of us who can walk as tall as Bella.  Often, for me, I let my fears get in the way of everyday life.  Even mouse-size difficulties can seem overwhelming at times.  Is the answer just to see myself differently?  Or to study my reflection thoughtfully, while telling myself how great I am? 

Ultimately, those things will never help me overcome my fears.  Yes, it may make me temporarily more confident, but if I'm only trusting in my own strength, eventually I will come up against a foe that's too big for me to handle alone.

Thankfully, I don't have to.  I have my very own Lion of Judah standing with me.  And, whatever He doesn't scare away,  He will deal with decisively.  

So, I guess I can have catitude too, knowing that beside me is the biggest Cat of all.

Cinderella Stories

Why are the days of princesses and castles so romanticized?  In reality, who would yearn to go back to the days of outdoor plumbing, overpowering body odor and the once-a-year bath day?  

So, why do I love Cinderella stories? 

You know the kind.  A beautiful girl lost in the ashes of poverty, imprisoned by an evil one, living a life full of fear.  A well-meaning fairy cleans her up, dresses her in a pretty gown that's not her own, and sends her off to seek the love of the handsome prince.  And find it she does!  He loves her so much, in fact, it frightens her.  Feeling she is unworthy, and knowing she is not what she appears to be, she desperately flees his presence, leaving behind one small token of her hope. 

But, thankfully, the story doesn't end there.  The prince doesn't wait for her to  come back to him. No! He scours the kingdom looking for his beautiful lost one.  He knows and loves everything about her, from every hair on her head all the way down to her shoe size. 

Finally, just before all is lost, he finds her, seals her with a kiss and takes her away to his kingdom to live happily ever after. 

In essence, Cinderella stories are nothing more than an ancient tale retold.  A story created before creation itself.  Our Beloved finds us in the ashes and truly loves us.  Should we choose to run, He stops at nothing to search until He finds us.  Through His perfect love, we are changed and, eventually, taken away with Him to live happily ever after.

Why do I love Cinderella stories?  Because it's my story.

Dog Training 101

I wish I was more like my dog.  She's always upbeat and positive, energetic and enthusiastic.  She makes friends easily and forgives even easier. 

But, I guess the thing I like best about her is her willingness to be teachable.  I'm always a bit amazed each time she obeys a command.  The other day I asked her to stay, which she did immediately.  Then I promptly forgot all about her as I got distracted doing something else.  Finally, my husband pointed out that she was still "staying" although several minutes had gone by. Amazingly, she was waiting for my next command! 

I wish I could be more like that.  When my Master asks me to SIT at His feet, why do I impatiently explain that there is so much to do today and I just don't have time?  Why don't I instantly obey when He asks me to STAY out of sin, or STAY in His will?  When will I learn to HEEL beside the Master instead of running off to chase squirrels, or, worse, pulling ahead of Him rather than letting Him lead?

Maybe one day I'll be more like my dog.  But, right now, I'm thankful I don't have to be that perfect.  He knows I'm in training and He accepts me right where I am. So, for now, I'll just COME to my Master and LIE DOWN at His feet. 

Rose Garden

My white rose bush bloomed only once this summer, yielding three perfect red roses.  For eight years, it has dutifully produced white roses, but this year it must have decided it had had enough.  It was time for a change.

Sometimes in life, we get thrown a curve ball, something we just weren't expecting.  Like finding a red rose where a white one should be, it may be a beautiful surprise. Or, it might not.  You might walk outside to find that your white roses are covered in some sort of black spotted fungus.

Life is not linear.  Today may look like yesterday, but that doesn't mean tomorrow will bear any resemblance to it. The question is, should I accept only blessings from the Master Gardener's hand? Or, am I willing to trust that His ways are not my ways, that His will is not my will? 

 My response is the important thing. Do I rejoice with the good, but fall apart when I find the...well, not so good? 
 I may plant, fertilize and water rose bushes every day, but that doesn't mean I will always reap what I have sown.  The aphids may still take over and the lady bugs, that I bought to fight them off, may decide to fly off to greener pastures, or, eh, rose bushes. 

So, what is the proper response to life's surprises?  Do I just give up, since I can't really control anything?  Or is all of life just a moment by moment reminder that there's Someone bigger behind the scenes, a Master Gardener with a master plan.  And, if I just keep tending the garden, eventually, I will see His hand.

Perhaps, a red rose blooming on a white rose bush is just His gentle, loving way of saying, "Trust Me, I've got this covered."

Herding Cats

My neighbor has a cat farm.  Perhaps cat ranch would be more accurate.  So far, I've seen three separate litters of kittens and at least four adult cats living in their garage.  I've tried multiple times to get close to them without success.  Even attempting to take photos sends them scurrying.

Life is a little bit like herding cats. 

I've found that sometimes the things that I'm earnestly chasing after slip through my fingers, one by one.  Going after too many things at once often yields nothing, and working toward a goal by myself, without seeking help, is frequently fruitless.

However, sometimes, when I least expect it, something warm and fuzzy jumps into my lap on its own.  It may not be exactly what I was looking for, but it fits perfectly.

Standing on Tiptoes

I once knew a kid who walked on his tiptoes all the time. And I mean all the time. In fact, he did it so much, that eventually he could do nothing else. His parents had to send him to a physical therapist to stretch his muscles so he could learn to walk like the rest of us.

Which is kind of sad when you think about it. I've found that so many of the best things in life are found when I'm standing on my tiptoes - a welcome home kiss for my hubby after a long hard day of work, a hidden bag of dark chocolate Raisinets on a high kitchen shelf. As a young dancer, I spent a considerable amount of time on my toes, twirling and floating to the music, creating something that was (hopefully) beautiful to see. Even bad things can be made good by rising up a few inches, like removing those hanging cobwebs on the ceiling, or eliminating that creepy spider that always seems to be just out of reach on the wall.

These days, though, I see this as more of a spiritual exercise. I yearn to grow closer and closer to the One who created me, to hear His sweet whisper in my ear. Stretching up and reaching as high as I can is my act of worship, my posture of obedience, my expression of love. I await His presence, His word, His gift. And, as I lift myself up, standing on tiptoes, my Best Friend crosses the universe to meet me.

And that truly is something beautiful to see.