[Faith-talk] Daily Thought for Saturday, June 21, 2014

[Paul]

Well folks, it's the first day of summer in the northern hemisphere, but you in New Zealand and parts of Australia are in your winter.  Whatever the weather is in your area, I hope that you're coping with it.

Are you an animal lover, and specifically a cat lover? If you are, then you'll enjoy this story written by Donna Williams of Concord, North Carolina.  Her contribution is entitled "One Little Kitten" and is rendered as follows:

Mommy loved three things most of all:  God, her family, and her cats in that order.  She needed us all now more than ever.  Exactly eight cats resided at my parents' home in the West Virginia countryside when I left my job in North Carolina to help take care of her.  She'd been diagnosed with leukemia and aplastic anemia.  My brother Robert, whom we called Brother, lived within sight of my parents with his wife, Sharon.  My sister Tiny lived a few miles away.  One afternoon in April Mommy sat on the couch with one of her favorite furry friends in her lap, a gray and white tomcat named Lightning.

"Where's Daddy?" I asked, bringing her a cup of coffee.

Lightning flicked his tail against Mommy's hand.  "Outside working somewhere," she said.  "He probably found something that needed fixing."

Since Mommy got sick, Daddy had kept busy doing anything and everything, whether it needed doing or not.  It was just his way of dealing with her illness.

"He'll have this whole house rebuilt soon," I said, hoping my joke would make Mommy laugh.  She only smiled.  Even Lightning snuggling deeper into her lap failed to inspire that warm laughter I missed so much.

The doctor had warned our family to expect a change in Mommy's personality.  "We don't know whether it's the treatment or the disease," he'd explained.  "Some people become angry or impatient.  Some just become withdrawn.  There's nothing we can do."

Mommy, who had always been outgoing, became quiet.  It was a big change from the woman who'd stood up for herself and my disabled father for years.  She never did anything health-wise until hearing the doctor out, asking a hundred questions, and reading up on the issue herself.  "Doctor's orders" might as well have been "doctor's suggestions" as far as she was concerned.  Not anymore.

"She's almost meek now," Brother told me one day.  I miss that feisty fire she always had."

"You know what I miss most?" I said.  "Her laugh." If only I could bring it back, I thought.  Even just once.  I went to check on Mommy just as Lightning jumped up into her lap.

She stroked the tomcat between his ears.  "I wish I had a little kitten," she said.

Mommy sure loved kittens.  If anything could bring her real joy at this point, that was it.  Especially since all her cats were fully grown.  But this wasn't the time to break in a new pet.  Kittens needed special attention and right now all our attention was on Mommy.  I couldn't fulfill that wish.

That night I prayed for the strength to accept the change in her.  This wasn't the first time she'd been sick.  Years earlier Mommy had battled non-Hodgkin's lymphoma.  Doctors had given her six months to live.  While we all prepared for the worst, Mommy was optimistic.  "This isn't going to kill me," she told me while she was in the hospital.  "Too many people are praying for me to get better, and God's going to make it happen." That was the Mommy I'd remember, standing up for what she knew to be true, even if nobody else believed her.  Mommy had more trust in God than anybody.  That trust in God--that feisty fire, as Brother called it--helped us all.  And sure enough, after surgery, radiation, and chemo, there was no trace of cancer to be found.  "I've never seen anything like this," the doctor said.  "Not with this kind of cancer." Mommy wasn't the least bit surprised.  She'd known all along.

Things are different this time, I thought, rolling over in bed.  It turned out that leukemia and aplastic anemia were rare side effects to the chemotherapy Mommy had received.  This time she didn't expect a recovery.  Just like before, she trusted God's decision.  If only I had that kind of trust in God myself.

The next morning I woke to the distant sound of the lawn mower.  Daddy was out bright and early cutting the dewy grass.  I lay listening.  The lawn mower stopped.  I waited for it to start again.  A few minutes later the back door opened and Daddy yelled, "Donnie, hurry! Come here! Lightning's got a kitten!"

I pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and followed Daddy out to the backyard.  Lightning was on the dirt road behind the house.  Scampering behind him was a little orange kitten.  I crept up to them slowly, not wanting to scare her away.  Lightning lay down.  The kitten snuggled close between his paws, as if giving him a hug.

I picked the kitten up.  She purred.  Mommy wished for a kitten! I thought.  Lightning brought her one!

"Where did you come from?" I said, stroking the little ball of fur in my hand.

"Lightning came out of the grass with her," Daddy said.  "I can't imagine where he found a stray around here."

Lightning's legs were still wet from the dewy grass, but the kitten was completely dry, as if she hadn't touched it.

I carried the fluffy, purring bundle into Mommy's bedroom.  "Lightning brought you something," I said.

Lightning jumped on the bed beside her as I held out my hands.  Mommy's eyes lit up, and I turned over the warm, furry body to her.  Mommy looked down at the squirming little kitten in her hands and let out a laugh.  That soft, happy laugh I'd missed so much.  The one I never thought I'd hear again.

Mommy named her new kitten Princess.  The vet said she was four weeks old at the most, but she already ate solid food.  And used a litter box.  She didn't need any of the special attention I'd worried about and spent most of her time at Mommy's side.  She slept next to her on the bed, jumped on and off the couch, chased her tail.  She brought the feisty fire back to my mother's eyes.

Mommy only knew Princess for ten days before she died peacefully in her sleep.  No one in the neighborhood ever claimed the stray, but of course Princess had a home with us.  Where had she come from? Not from that dewy grass, since her fur was dry.  I think an angel delivered her to fulfill Mommy's wish for a kitten and my wish to hear my mother's laugh once more.  What a perfect way for God to have shown that I could trust in Him the way my mother did.

And there you have Donna's article which I trust was a blessing to all you cat lovers out there.

Don't forget that tomorrow there will be another weekly Bible trivia game, Lord willing.

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.  Your Christian friend and brother, Paul