Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Spirituality through the eyes of Feral Will.
If Lily is Pentecostal and Lola one of the frozen chosen, Feral is critter who serves himself. God is not on Feral's throne and if He is, Feral is sitting on His lap and demanding He do as commanded.
In spite of the dog cat difference toward worship and loyalty, I think it's pretty amazing that thousands of years after the creation of the first animal, that they continue to do what God programmed them to do. Creation does point to an Almighty Creator God. From the songs of a hundred types of birds to the flashes of color of feather, flora and fur, God's creativity reaches out to each of us.
But back to my furry friends. Feral is the most self-sufficient one in the household. The girls and skittish Freckles need, oh they need. Feral's only lack is his inability to pour his own food into his bowl. Occasionally he likes a soft, warm body to sleep on, but really, that is negotiable.
To dig for the positives, I do have to say that when I open the door to the room where his food is stored, he is always alert and present before both bowls are filled. I wish I was that sensitive to God's work and His blessing in my life. I tend to get so distracted that I forget to look for Him in the details. And I guess that Feral's food dance could be praise for provision.
Maybe he's not so unaware as I think. I guess there is something I can learn about Feral and his response to God's provision.