Today I said goodbye to a dear friend.  Someone who kept me company as the nest emptied; someone who gave her affection to only me; someone who gave me comfort and so much pleasure.  Roxy, you went from an abandoned kitten in the church parking lot to a spoiled, pampered queen.  We had 10 good years together.   I'll miss you forever. 

Here's four lessons I learned from Roxy:

 

1.  Sometimes those who NEED your help and REALLY WANT your help have a hard time accepting it.  You just have to keep trying. 

Roxy met me at the front door of the church in Sugar Land, Texas as I arrived early to set up for a social.  She meowed a huge, desperate meow, but ran away as soon as I tried to help her.  She even ran away from the food I set out for her.  I discovered she had been labeled the "Seminary Cat" by the early-morning Seminary kids and was living off donuts and scraps left out for her by some well-wishers.  After the social, I was the last to leave and she came out again begging for help.  Once more, she ran away when I tried.  I finally coaxed her between the storm doors where I could grab her and bring her to the car (not without a hole in my shirt and a bloody arm.)  At first she wasn't too happy, but I was able to rehabilitate her into a spoiled house pet who even tolerated Sammy, the Cocker Spaniel. 

I believe there are people who also are begging for our attention, but have a real hard time accepting it when offered.  While I certainly don't want to trap anyone into my affections, Roxy reminds me to keep trying and reaching out to others, even when I get "scratched" a little here and there.

2.  Sometimes you need to rub their tummy....

All my encounters with Roxy were close up.  I marveled at her beauty.  I was mesmerized by her green eyes with tiger markings.  My belief in God's creation was reaffirmed when I noticed her hair grew in 4 different colors and textures, all within one strand.  And then there was her tummy...  It was soft as down.  I couldn't get enough of her tummy. 

One day I was driving home and saw her outside.  Good grief, she looked average!  Even plain.  I'd never noticed her as others saw her.  From a distance she was just an average striped cat!  It bothered me that my neighbors might perceive her as "average" when I knew she was marvelous.

That got me thinking about how I regard those around me.  Do I see people as others do, or do I take time to "rub their tummy" and get to know their inner beauty and qualities?  Everyone has their qualities.  God knows what they are.   He wants us to see others as He sees them. 

Cats only show their vulnerable tummy when they feel safe and comfortable.  Am I making those around me feel safe and confident so they can show me their qualities?

3.  Most worthwhile things come at a cost and might be messy.. 

 

 



4.  Sometimes it's nice to relax...

Enough said.