[Faith-talk] Daily Thought for Monday, January 13, 2014

[Debby Phillips]

Thanks for this.  I recently acquired a cat, and I prayed that he would be a cat my husband would love, that he would like to be held, etc. and it happebned.  Anyway, I love stories about how God uses animals.   Blessings,    Debby

Sent from my iPhone

> On Jan 13, 2014, at 12:45 PM, "Paul" <oilofgladness47 at gmail.com> wrote:
> 
> Hello and good day to all of you out there.  I hope and pray that, by God's matchless grace and His providential care, that you all are doing well, both individually and collectively.
> 
> This is one of those stories which I've shared with most of you about a year ago, but there are some who haven't read it previously, so for those I'm sending this to you for the first time.  If you are a cat lover, this will warm your cockles, so to speak.  The story in question was written by Wendy Christ of Milwaukee WI and is entitled "The Cat Next Door, They Called Him Ishmael," rendered as follows:
> 
> I took a break after studying one morning to sit on the back porch and collect my thoughts.  Here I was, 38 years old, single, and living alone in a side-by-side duplex.  Once in a while I saw my neighbor Dale, but more often than not, he was visiting his girlfriend, Jan.  The only hugs waiting for me when I got home at night were the ones I gave my stuffed lion cub, Boom-Boom.
> 
> I sat and wondered, Has time run out for me, God? Did God even hear me? I worked 60 hours a week as a human resources coordinator for a pharmaceutical company, and I also took college classes toward my bachelor's degree.  Sure, I was busy.  But my life consisted of the basics--eating, watching television, going to work, and studying.  Too often, it felt like something was missing.
> 
> A gentle breeze sent some leaves skittering across the lawn.  Bare branches reached toward the sky.  Just then, an answer seemed to come, and a strong impression in my mind assured me:  There are other plans for you, Wendy.
> 
> Oh? I thought.  What about a cat? I don't know why that came to mind, especially because I'd always been a real dog person.  Still, with my hectic schedule, a cat seemed right.  Was that God's answer to my plea? He'd have to be dog-like, I told God.  Friendly and moveable.  And greet me at the door when I came home.  I'd want him to come to me when I called or whistled, and learn to do a trick or two.  Maybe I was asking for too much.  The wind blew, sending the leaves skittering again.  Was that a yes? I wondered.
> 
> But things went back to the way they'd been, and I forgot all about my momentary urge for a cat.  It wasn't until a few months later that I was bringing groceries in from the car and saw a cat on my next-door-neighbor Dale's stoop.  Is that his cat? Poor thing.  Just two days earlier Dale had passed away quite suddenly.  I set down the groceries and reached out my hand.  "Hey, little guy.  Are you hungry?" I said.
> 
> The cat backed away cautiously.  He jumped from the steps and scurried out of sight.  Oh, well.  I tried, I thought.
> 
> I propped open the screen door and went to the car for the rest of the groceries.  All of a sudden, there he was--the cat.  He walked right through the open door into my house.  Great.  How would I get him out?
> 
> I heard some noise from Dale's house, so I went over and rang the doorbell.  His girlfriend, Jan, answered.  I extended my condolences.  Then I asked about the cat.  "He's a stray Dale took in last fall," she said.  "I'd take him, but I already have six cats and three dogs.  Hey, why don't you take him?"
> 
> My first reaction was no.  He's such a scaredy-cat.
> 
> She rattled on.  "He's already got everyting he needs--litter box, fresh litter, food, and bowls.  It's yours if you want it."
> 
> I remembered my talk with God the previous fall.  Had He taken me up on my prayer?
> 
> "What's his name?" I asked.
> 
> "Did you know that Dale was a librarian? He named the cat Ishmael, after one of the characters in Moby Dick."
> 
> No, a voice in my head said very clearly, that name is from the Bible.  Go and look it up.
> 
> I had a Bible at home but it sat on a shelf, gathering dust.  I'd tried to read it in the past.  It just didn't hold my interest.  All those begats in Genesis were enough to make me fall asleep.  I wasn't about to try reading it now.  Besides, Dale called the cat Ishmael, so that was good enough for me.
> 
> Ishmael got over his initial skittishness and started trusting me.  Within a week, he was sleeping at the foot of my bed every night.  I'd study at the dining room table, and he'd get cozy on the chair next to me or curl up on the back of the couch.  It wasn't long till he'd come running when he heard my car pull into the driveway.  He even came when I whistled, just like a dog.  I taught him how to sit up and beg for his nightly treat.  And he'd curl up in my lap on cold winter evenings.  He became my little buddy, and I loved him as dearly as a mother loved her child.
> 
> I'd asked God about a cat.  He sent me Ishmael.  But still I couldn't shake that feeling, like something vital was missing in my life, even with Ishmael.
> 
> One night I looked at Ishmael, all curled up on the back of the couch.  I remembered the day I took him in, when something told me the name came from the Bible.  A powerful urge came over me.  It compelled me to pull out my Bible, sit down and read.  "In the beginning, God created..."  This time, I kept reading.  I got all the way to the story of Ishmael in Genesis, chapter 16 (he'd been the son of Abraham by his wife's handmaiden), and beyond.
> 
> A coworker invited me to his church.  I went.  I liked it so I kept going.  Eventually, I even went to Sunday school.  Then on to Bible study classes.
> 
> But even with my newfound interests, I always made sure I spent time with Ishmael.  "I never would have learned any of this if it weren't for you," I told him one evening while sitting out on the terrace.  The crickets chirped and the late summer breeze rustled through the trees.  Ishmael perked up his head at the sound.  I could have sworn there was a smile on his little face.
> 
> But that winter the worst thing imaginable happened.  Ishmael got a blood clot that traveled down his spine and paralyzed his hind legs.
> 
> "I have bad news," the vet told me after examining the cat.  "Surgery won't help.  The best thing for him is ..."
> 
> The vet gave me time alone to say good-bye.  I cradled Ishmael in my hands, then kissed his soft little forehead.  Lord, I prayed, You take care of him now.  If it weren't for this cat, I never would have known You as I do.  I stood by Ishmael's side, petting him gently as he slipped away.  His work was done.
> 
> I think about Ishmael often, how he walked right into my house that day.  I'd opened my door to the cat next door, and he helped me open my heart and discover what was really missing in my life.  "You shall name him Ishmael (God hears," it says in Genesis 16, "For the Lord has heard of your misery."
> 
> Yes, God listens and God hears.  I know that for sure now.
> 
> Whether it be the first or the second time around, I hope that you cat lovers in particular and animal lovers in general enjoyed reading this story.
> 
> And now may the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob just keep us safe, individually and collectively, in these last days in which we live.  Lord willing, tomorrow there will be another daily thought article.  Your Christian friend and brother, Paul
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