Dishes and cats

Now that I've got your attention, I should probably explain that I couldn't think of a deeply symbolic title for this blog post, so I thought I'd try the direct approach. Hmm. I may have accidentally achieved the cat-hater's approach in the process. (Um, I DON'T eat cats.) For the record, I'm hopelessly a cat person, and I love my feline babies extremely much. I even recently unfriended a couple of people on Facebook for some remarks about people putting cats in their profile pictures. Even after I walked away from Facebook for a little while to cool down. True story. Crazy-serious cat lady. (Um, Tirzah, are you calm enough to write in complete sentences now?)

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven... a time to keep and a time to throw away..." (Ecclesiastes 3:1, 6b)

"Out of the brightness of His presence clouds advanced, with hailstones and bolts of lightning. The Lord thundered from heaven; the voice of the Most High resounded. He shot His arrows and scattered the enemies, great bolts of lightning and routed them... He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes, who were too strong for me. They confronted me in the day of my disaster, but the Lord was my support. He brought me out into a spacious place; He rescued me because He delighted in me." (Psalm 18:12-14, 17-19)

"The Lord builds up Jerusalem; He gathers the exiles of Israel. He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." (Psalm 147:2-3)

If you've followed my blog for a while, perhaps you're acquainted with my adventures in learning how to clean house. (Trumpet fanfare plays here.) I've recently made the coolest discovery ever in housecleaning: throwing stuff away! (Kazoo plays here.)

Here's a "before" snapshot of my kitchen sink circa two months ago. I honestly lost track of how long those dishes had been sitting there, but after careful consideration, I decided that some of them weren't worth saving. I dumped some of them in the trash. I'll spare you the icky details. My sink now, as I'm typing this, is totally empty except for a few plates that I've pulled out of box storage and will relocate into cupboard storage very soon, but instead of snapping an "after" photo, I'll just keep typing and save room for the upcoming cat photo. I did mention that I love my kitties, right?

My kitchen isn't spotless, but it looks so much better. That's what happens when you're a non-domestic bachelorette: You prioritize! You spend less time attempting to cook for one, and you spend more time blogging. You spend less time dusting, and you spend more time sorting through and throwing away the piles of outdated documents and junk mail that have been collecting dust. You spend less time being a well-intentioned pack rat, and you spend more time lugging stuff out to the Dumpster and walking back with a relieved smile to your home where you know that your babies are waiting for you, and they ain't gonna miss the trash that you just threw out.

I don't like to waste stuff. There is some stuff that can be dusted off, scrubbed clean, and rescued for further use. But sometimes you just gotta let stuff go and move on.

But some stuff is definitely worth keeping.

Here is Macho inside the carrier. Choochie is on top of the carrier. There isn't any deep, spiritual symbolism in this particular photo; I just thought it was adorable that she jumped onto the carrier and started sniffing it while he was inside it. Anyway, during Macho's recent trip to the vet, I learned that he has cataracts and dental disease. He's 12 and a half years old, so he's developed some expensive senior-cat issues. I won't do anything about the cataracts (the vet told me that cataracts are just a natural part of a cat's aging, and surgery isn't necessary), but I'll need to get his teeth cleaned soon.

Once in a while, I'll hear about kittens who need good homes, and I can't take them in because I'm already at my pet limit. But wouldn't it be easier to just get rid of my old cats and start over with some new ones?

No way! I even had trouble typing it two sentences ago. I wouldn't trade my aging Macho and Choochie for a zillion brand-new heartbreakingly adorable, mewing, fully trainable kittens. Macho and Choochie are my babies. They're mine. They know that they're mine. I'm choked up now. I'm not going to throw my babies away.

Sometimes God shows me things inside me that are so rotten, moldy, rusty, and disgusting that I'm amazed that He can even look at me. Wouldn't it be easier to just throw me away?

"Do not hide Your face from me, do not turn your servant away in anger; You have been my helper. Do not reject me or forsake me, O God my Savior. Though my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will receive me." (Psalm 27:9-10)

No way! God bought me with Jesus. He redeemed me. He adopted me. He chose me. He's NOT going to throw me away. I'm a keeper. I'm a fixer-upper. I'm His, and I know that I'm His. I'm choked up again.

I wasn't purchased, redeemed, adopted, or chosen by some wimpy little god that's made out of wood, stone, or clay, either. I belong to the King of Kings. I belong to the Lord of Lords. I belong to the Lion of Judah, the Almighty God, the One who is a consuming fire. Any spiritual enemies who mess with me will have to mess with my Heavenly Father who's already beaten the crap out of them. (By "spiritual enemies," I don't mean people. I mean principalities, powers, and demons, who all lie and who are all serious about destroying me or anyone else who exists.) I may be a crazy-serious cat lady, but I ain't nothin' compared to my Defender. Yeah, that's right. He's got my back.

I'm thinking about my babies again. I was planning to take care of their teeth before I took care of my teeth because I love my babies. And because I hate going to the dentist. (I have an appointment tomorrow, and I'll more than likely blog about my new adventures in trying to not cry in a dentist's chair. Insert whining here.)

Also for the record, that photo I shared earlier today on Facebook (about cooking, family, and a dog) DIDN'T inspire this blog post. It was accidental foreshadowing. Hmm. Or maybe God took care of the foreshadowing for me. Yeah, that's right. He's got my back.