Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Pet the Cat



Our adult son, Doug, longed to own a cat for a long time, but always rejected the idea because two of our grandchildren are allergic to cats (and he loved his nieces more than his desire for a cat).  Our daughter, Deb, hunted online for allergy-free cats, but we all decided hairless cats were not our idea of a cat. However, she learned that Russian Blue cats tended to cause fewer allergies than other cats.

Doug got excited as he contacted two pet shelters. Wonder of wonders, one of them had a Russian Blue! Rescued from a feral cat colony (although she wasn’t wild), she had been in the shelter for a year and three months.

He made Amazon.com quite happy when he ordered all sorts of cat supplies: a cat carrier, an elaborate cat tree with all the “bells and whistles,” a cat scratching post, cat bed, bowls for food and water, automated litter box, wet and dry cat food, cat toys, and even catnip. He did a lot of research online about cat care, and joined a chat group about cats.

After visiting the two shelters, he decided on the female Russian Blue he named Saya, and filled out the paperwork. Anticipation mounted as he (and we) talked about all the fun he would have with the cat. She’d be good company for a single guy like Doug.

He chose his guest room as the initiation station for Saya, because he knew from what the shelter (and others) told him that cats can take weeks to become acclimated to their new surroundings, and he wanted to make it as easy for her as possible. Some cats take even longer. Doug heard of one guy in his chat group whose cat took a year to come out of hiding, but today she’s a lap cat. To prepare for her arrival, he lifted the bedspread on all sides so he could peer under the bed to see her. He put her water and food bowls on old towels on the floor and positioned her litter box away from the eating area, and put some toy mice on the floor.

The Big Day finally arrived, and he brought her home. (The shelter told Doug it took three people to get her into the pet carrier!) Poor Saya. He set the carrier on the floor in his guest room, opened the door of the carrier slowly, and talked to her in low, gentle tones. She stayed refused to leave the carrier and stayed frozen in place. But the next time he looked into the room, the carrier was empty, and after a search with a flashlight, found her hiding under the bed. Saya didn’t eat or use the litter box for two days. (He turned off the automated part of the litter box so it wouldn’t scare her). He went into her room every morning, knelt on the carpet where she could see him, and opened a can of cat food, put it in her bowl, gave her fresh water, and walked out. He put pheromone air plug-ins in the guest room that are designed to make the cat feel at ease.

Doug soon bought two video cameras and installed them in strategic places to catch her movements, because he was concerned about her welfare. He hoped and watched for her to leave the hiding place under the bed and venture out, glad when he saw she’d eaten food, drank water, and used the litter box. Day after day passed, and one week wove into the next with little change. We prayed for Saya to become acclimated to her new home. Doug watched camera video of her nightly treks in a predictable pattern through his living room, across the window ledges in his office, up the cat tree and back down, across the kitchen and living room floor, then always back into the safety of hiding under the guest room bed.


Video clip of Saya
Photo credit: Douglas Beachy

Every day except Wednesdays, he works from home as a Senior Software Engineer with Acronis, so he decided to sit on the floor near the doorway of Saya’s room with his computer every morning to help her get used to him. She stayed under the bed day after day.

We encouraged Doug, saying that one of these days, she will let him pet her. I saw the emotion on his face as he longed to pet his cat. She had to learn to trust him, and he couldn’t, nor wanted to, force her. He agreed with us that one day, sooner or later, he would pet his cat.

Then, on the 28th day, almost 4 weeks to the day after he brought her home, it happened! His face and voice was full of emotion as he told us, “Today I petted my cat.” I gave Doug a celebratory hug and rejoiced with him! He sent us video camera footage later on of the happy event of him lying on the floor in her room as he held out his hand to Saya. She came to him and rubbed her head against his hand, walked alongside his body and let him stroke her spine, tail straight up in the air.

There are spiritual parallels to the natural, and Doug’s cat, Saya, is one such example. I had to think how God woos us to come to Him, trust Him, relate to Him, and be friends with Him. But so often people have life and “pre-rescue” issues that make it hard to do that. Aren’t you glad God is patient with us, understands us, and sends others to help us have faith in Him? I am.

I think of the scripture verse in Psalm 103:14, “For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust.” Even after we have been rescued by Him from Satan’s grasp, many of us have difficulty trusting Him. We are used to self-protection and self-preservation. Many of us have been made to feel afraid of making a misstep in our Christian walk, afraid of being judged by God, so we draw back from Him and try to hide. We’ve been made to feel guilty by religious teaching instead of being established in righteousness and grace. He understands our insecurities and wounds, and longs to heal us, longs to befriend us. God waits for us to respond to Him. He is a Gentleman, and will not force Himself on anybody. “Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.” James 4:8

Jesus holds out His hand to each of us and says, “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and My burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30

He’s waiting patiently with a heart full of longing and love for your response. Will you come to Him? Will you let Him touch you?

*All scripture references are from the NKJV.

Copyright © 2016 Elaine Beachy

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

More Than a Domino





 
Your tiny body was about the size of a large domino playing piece: three and one half inches. You could move your hands, legs, and head, and open and close your mouth. Your tiny fingers and toes had soft nails, and a bit of fuzz would likely have formed on your head. You had tiny tooth buds under your gums. But I never got to see what your hands and feet could do; I never got to play with you, help you with your school homework, or just be your bossy, big sister.

This morning, for some reason, I remembered you, the sibling I forgot to mention on National Siblings Day, April 10. I feel emotional even now as I think about the little brother I never got to know. Had you lived and been born full term, you’d have a birthday in July and be sixty-five earth years old. I wonder what your interests and talents would have been. I know you’d be pretty special.





Mom miscarried you between our brothers, Sanford and Marlin. Years ago, our dad shared his feelings with me about how he grieved the loss of you, little one. He related how one night he had a vivid dream he was in heaven, and saw a group of children who played happily some feet away. One beautiful little boy with intensely-blue eyes and sandy-blonde hair, who appeared to be about five years old, turned and looked at Dad and smiled. Dad said he knew instinctively and instantly it was you—his little boy. Tears rolled down Dad's face as he told me of his dream. I just know Daddy loved on you when he got to heaven on April 7, 2003.

I look forward to getting to know you in heaven, my unknown brother. But for now, I want to honor your existence, and acknowledge the pain my parents experienced when they lost you. Even though I’ve never seen you, I love you, and wish you to have a name; so I think I'll call you “Chester Lamar Yoder.”


Mom and I spoke of you amid tears on the phone. She remembers so well the day she lost you, in spite of putting her feet up in bed as the doctor ordered. The doctor didn't make it to the house in time, and Daddy wrapped your 3-month-old body in a cloth and buried you behind the shed. But Jesus had your spirit safely in His hands, and took good care of you. Mom said Daddy cried and cried, and it was hard for him to get over losing you. And now tears are running down my face, too, Chester.

Disregard for unborn human life was unheard of in your day, Chester. Mom and Dad knew instinctively to value your tiny body, and it grieves me no end to see the selfish callousness with which an unborn child is treated these days—like so much bothersome tissue. I’m so glad they didn’t flush you down a toilet or throw you in the garbage. I somehow feel a connection to you, and wonder what you would say to the world if you had a voice.

I think you would say, “Please tell them I am glad God created me, and knit me together in my mother’s womb. He saw me in the inward parts, fearfully and wonderfully made. He had a good plan for my life, but through no fault of her own, Mom couldn’t carry me to term. I’m glad I was wanted and mourned. I’m glad I wasn’t rejected and intentionally killed. No one has that right, because it is God’s life.”

Chester, your body may have only been the size of a domino, but you are not a game. You are a treasure in the hands of God. And I hope your big sister gave you the honor and voice you deserve.

Copyright © 2016 Elaine Beachy