Similar heart

Lately, MeepMeep has been kneading on my arm and nestling into my bosom like a kitten. (In this photo, I believe she's nestling her little head into my couch while crouching on top of my arm.) Sometimes she responds very passionately to my voice. When I sing or talk, sometimes she gets so excited that she sinks her teeth into my arm or leg (a feline form of affection, believe it or not), grips onto me, and purrs. Other times, she just suddenly roar-meeps and decides to latch on out of nowhere.

Not to be crude or inappropriate, but I've often wondered if she really thinks I'm her biological mama and is trying to nurse, but I'm always relieved to discover that she isn't interested in milk. (In this photo, you can see her teeth gripping my T-shirt sleeve.) I think she just knows that she belongs with me. If I end up restoring her kittenhood in the process, then... bonus.

"He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty." (Psalm 91:1)

I was recently reminded of something crazy-random that happened to me about 20 or so years ago. (Not sure if I've shared about this already on this site.) One day while I was either in college or had recently graduated from college, I got the idea in my head that I needed to read the Bible more. (Which is interesting, because at that point in my life I was kind of already reading the Bible a ton.) In my mind, the best way to make time to read the Bible more was to wake up about 30-60 minutes earlier than I had already been waking up. My routine at the time was to take a brisk quiet-time walk on the trail near my apartment, but one morning I woke up INSANELY early and hit the walking trail in the dark.

This story is actually rated R, but I'll try to keep it as rated G as I can.

A middle-aged man carrying a takeout coffee cup ended up joining me on the walking trail. (I'm assuming he had just come from a nearby convenience store.) I think perhaps he initiated the conversation; but I was a friendly person back then, so it's possible that I was the one who began the conversation with a simple smile and a hello. He quickly took over the conversation and, uh, started sharing things with me that he really should have shared with another middle-aged man.

He talked about how he and his wife were having problems and about how his wife had begun getting certain needs fulfilled with a certain habitual sin. He expressed his disappointment in this situation and that he had told her, "Aw, baby, I can do that to you." I was a lifegroup leader at the time, so I was naively in compassionate-listening mode. Then after a while, he focused the conversation on me. He asked me if I had a boyfriend and declared, "I'll treat you real good."

I believe I was wearing a watch, noticed the time, and declared, "I need to meet Somebody back at my apartment." (Technically, I wasn't lying; I needed to have my quiet time and meet with Jesus.) I took my leave as politely as I could -- in the opposite direction. I'm not a jogger, but it's possible that I ended up jogging all the way back to my apartment. I don't think I used that method of creating extra Bible-reading time ever again.

It's OK to laugh.

A few days ago, I was driving home from work, and I started thinking about my current life season and how God can use situations to humble a person. For some reason, the thought flashed across my mind that I could have a car wreck and God could use that situation to shape my character. Then I heard God tell me something to the effect of, "I won't do you like that." Then He reminded me of the crazy-random story that I told you several paragraphs ago.

The tone in His voice was the same tone I heard in the middle-aged man's voice. Minus the perversion, minus the adultery, I think the tone and the heart were the same: a Husband who wants to take good care of His lady. Maybe a touch of disappointment, definitely a ton of love and desire: a Bridegroom who insists on taking good care of His bride.

I'm learning some pretty raw, pretty basic truths during this crazy season of my life.

I think it was several months ago, during my 10-minute iPhone quiet time, that God spoke something very simple yet extremely profound: "I want to provide for you."

His words cut through layers that had hardened through years of living in an abusive, guilt-ridden home where, as an adult, my dire financial situations were often thrown in my face. Where I was treated like a burden. Where I was shamed, lectured, and even denied eye contact.

So, I sat there during my quiet time and babbled like a toddler, "You WANT to provide for me?" I just sat there for a long time and repeated the words while the truth sank down inside and the tears streamed outside. My earthly father didn't want to provide for me, but my Heavenly Father does. And He didn't lecture me for not getting the truth right away.

Basic things like THAT. A Father wanting to take care of His child. A Husband wanting to take care of His bride. A God wanting to take care of His creation... because He didn't bring her out into the wilderness to die. He's miraculously providing for her, just like He miraculously provided manna and water for His people in the desert -- where there naturally isn't any food or water.

Today, I attended a special event at my vet's office -- the place where I obtained MeepMeep. I was able to get a little more information from the person who found her and brought her to the clinic. MeepMeep lived at an apartment complex, and she had some kittens with her, and she was used to people feeding her. (Her rescuer thought she was pregnant with more kittens when the clinic took her in, but, um... apparently she was just a little chunky. It's OK to laugh.)

What's a mystery is whether or not she actually had previous owners. Did she used to live with somebody, inside an apartment, and they just abandoned her? I've heard of people leaving their pets behind when they move -- as in, just leaving them there without a replacement caretaker -- but I can barely grasp this concept.

So, when I came home today, I had a little heart-to-heart with my MeepMeep and explained, "I won't do you like that." I hope you can hear that familiar tone in my voice.

Here's the deal. I adopted MeepMeep permanently. I chose her. I brought her in to my home, to live with me, on purpose. I want her. She's mine. I'm hers. We're stuck with each other for life -- till death or Rapture do us part.

Maybe this is one reason why God spoke to me several years ago and told me that He wanted me to choose a cat for myself. (Because Macho and Choochie were given to me.) I picked her, I don't regret picking her, and I think with each passing day I'm increasingly glad that I picked her.

And she needs me. I'm possibly the only human on earth who understands her.

Of course, it's very similar to the way that God relates to us -- or the way that He WANTS to relate to us. (Because He will never, ever force us to want Him.) He wants us to let Him adopt us, let Him take care of us, let Him keep us under the shadow of His wings, and enjoy Him forever.

"Can a woman forget her nursing child, and not have compassion on the son of her womb? Surely they may forget, yet I will not forget you." (Isaiah 49:15)