|My Skunk Kitty|
When you’re sick in bed, you have a lot of time to think about your life. You can have bizarre thoughts, brought on by fever and narcotics and the reality television shows you’ve been watching to pass the time.
You start asking yourself if you’re dying, and you wonder what the whole point of life is anyway. Then you start thinking you’ll never have another moment of flair again in your whole life. You think that God has abandoned you and everything you thought was true is now untrue.
You can’t remember any of God’s promises.
And then your kitty comes up to snuggle with you, and she rolls over to show you the single white stripe on her belly. She looks exactly like a skunk.
But she’s not a skunk. She’s a kitty. She only looks like a skunk.
What I see from this bed is not reality.
There’s another system, another actuality, that God knows and God sees. Good, beautiful, right, and true. As warm and comforting as this cat beside me.
“You think that God has abandoned you and everything you thought was true is now untrue” – such familiar moments when everything suddenly stops making sense. The good news is those moments never last long enough to turn your true believes into ashes.
Cats really do the job, don't they?