I often argue that we're not nearly intentional enough about the lives we live. We spent an inordinate amount of time, energy, and stress on details that don't end up making much of a difference to us or the world. We leave many of life's deepest questions un-examined or at best taken for granted. We don't draw strong connections between our answers to those profound questions and the details of our daily lives. We respond to things that we perceive need doing rather than asking what things are best to do. Living our lives more intentionally--connecting those dots and then letting the overall picture inform our daily actions--would go a long way towards relieving our burdens and those of the world around us.
Unfortunately living intentionally often gets confused with being in control of our lives. Nothing could be further from the truth. We don't have to manage every circumstance of our life to live it faithfully or well. In fact some of the most delightful things are those we never plan for. Just as bad as leaving the purpose for your life un-examined is figuring you already know that purpose and the direction it will take you and not being willing to alter course when the unexpected arrives.
You're going to think this is weird, but the strongest lessons I've had in this vein have come from my cats.
We never had pets growing up. Dad thought they were too much trouble for folks who lived in the city. But when I was 11 my mom finally talked him into adopting a mostly-Siamese kitten from my sister's farm. I had waited for something like this my whole life. That cat taught me everything: how to love, how to be patient and gentle, how to communicate with someone even though we didn't share the same language. He chose me to sleep with at night. That made me feel prized beyond measure. He would later do the same thing with my mom after my parents were divorced. He was her lifeline when she was alone. One of the saddest days of my life was the day we had to put him to sleep.
When I went off to college and seminary I had no time or room for cats, of course. But I swore the first thing I was going to do when I got settled permanently was get a cat. And I did! Like our first cat, my sweet little Princess Buttercup kept me company when there was nobody else in the house. I remember my first Christmas in Iowa. It was just me and her...depressing as heck. But as it turned out she liked to open presents! I sat on the floor and brought out the gifts my family had mailed me and she ripped the paper off, loving every second. We were a good team.
It's funny, but had I insisted on my original plan I never would have had her. I had originally gone to the local animal shelter to pick out a kitten. They didn't have any at the moment, only grown up cats. I wanted to start from scratch. I was disappointed, but I figured I'd come back in a few weeks. In the meantime I reached through the cages and scratched a few cat heads to hold me over. I had just petted this one cat when I turned to my friend and started talking. All of a sudden...whoop! Out of the cage came a cat's paw, curling gently around my hand and pulling it back to pet her head again. I had overlooked her at first, but now that she had hold of my hand and was nuzzling it, I looked twice. She wasn't a kitten...but... She went home with me that day and she's been great ever since. I would have missed out on so much love if I hadn't changed my mind because of her fuzzy little paw.
Our second cat, Pocket, walked in the house during a bad thunderstorm when she was a baby kitten. She hasn't left yet. She's mostly grumpy and just rooms with us. She does not come into this tale.
But our third cat...Tubby, he does! I was driving around town one day, still in Iowa, when I got this weird feeling I should stop by the shelter again. I don't know how to describe it exactly, just an unspoken voice tickled me somewhere inside and I said to myself, "I should stop by the shelter. It would be fun." We were not looking for another cat. But I walked in there and right in the top cage was a little butterscotch ball of fur, not much bigger than my hand. His tail had been cut off halfway down. The shelter people thought it was probably an accident somewhere. There was a big sign on his cage door that said, "NOT FOR ADOPTION". I thought, "Good! This will be a safe cat to touch then." So I asked if I could see him and they got him out. I held him like a baby and he stretched out his paw, reaching up across my chest as if to say, "I choose YOU!" My heart melted. I asked why he wasn't adoptable and they said he would be in a couple days. He had just been neutered and needed time to recover. I asked if they could call someone and get the process done faster. They told me to pick him up the next day, which I did. He's the sweetest, most snuggly cat I've ever known and he's Careen's favorite. Again, had I not let that little voice change me I would have missed out on so much love!
And that was it...all done. Three cats is plenty. Until one day we were reading Derek one of his favorite books, "Cookie's Week". It's about a black and white tuxedo cat who gets into all kinds of comical mischief. I turned to Careen and said, "That's about the ONLY kind of cat I'd consider getting because we don't have a black one." We laughed. We did not need another cat. We did not want another cat.
A few days later I was sleeping in when Careen and Derek came home from a walk. Outside my window I heard this, "Mew!" Instantly it woke me up from my half-sleep. Something in my heart went, "Tug!" Then something in my brain said, "No! No, no, no, no, NO! I imagined that. There's nothing out there." Then I heard the "Mew!" again. Derek came running into my room and said, "Daddy! A kitten followed me all around!" Careen walked in and I looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She verified the story. This little cat had run in between Derek's legs just as they started their walk and had not left even though they had covered probably 20 blocks this way and that. Now it was outside the door. "And you better come take a look at it," she said.
I walked outside and sure enough...tuxedo black and white. The little kitten (a few weeks old at that point) meowed and rubbed between my legs, then jumped right up on my shoulder from the ground and started nibbling and licking my ear. She still does that to this day. Naturally we named her "Cookie" and she's just as delightfully mischievous as her literary counterpart. She's brought life and playfulness back to our brood of cats, being the youngest and totally unconcerned with anything but having fun and getting petted. Don't tell the others, but she may be the best cat I've ever owned.
Only once did I plan to get a cat, and even then I didn't get the cat I planned on at all. But by letting go and rolling with the circumstances when God or the universe or my heart were all conspiring to tell me something, I've found my life quadruply blessed.
I've learned that you do have to live your life intentionally with love and forgiveness, joy and grace at the forefront of your actions. But once you're committed to that, you just have to let go and see what happens. More often than not you'll be surprised in ways more pleasant than you could ever plan for yourself. I know three other sets of hands in this household and four more sets of furry paws that would be raised in agreement if they were reading this right now.
What wonderful things are in store for you today? Have fun finding out.
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
No comments:
Post a Comment