Wednesday, December 15, 2010

The voice, The call

We have cats.  This is not to brag or complain, but there are three of the furry parasites in this household.

One of the things we allow our cats to do is go outside.  This is positive, because since we started allowing this both the food and cat litter expenditures have dropped around here.  However, it's met with the inconvenience of letting them in and out.  I'm sure there's an illustration hidden in the in and out, cold, hot, raining, dry, whatever, but I'm not there right now.  I'll find it, though.

Where I am is here: the cats have taken to jumping into the windowsill by my desk when they want in.  Occasionally, I'm quick to let them in, but since I'm here, with a desk, with the intention of working they are not my priority.  So, the fuzzies are used to seeing me sit here for a few minutes, and then get up.  Sometimes I get up to do something else and then go open the door for them.

What I noticed today is that one cat has to be called very pleasantly with a happy "Here, kitty, kitty!" and then might come in.  Another one though, Big Jack, I opened the door and gruffly said "Get in here," and he came running for the door.  Now, Big Jack is also known as: The Fat Fuzz, Old Man, and Lumber Jack, because he's not typically the quickest mover (we adopted him as an adult, unknown age cat, and I think he's mildly arthritic.  But he's also fat).  So, he came running, even with the less gentle calling.  We have another cat that won't answer to me at all, but comes running when she hears Ann's voice.

So, what's the point?

We all hear and respond differently.  Jack was quick to respond this morning for a couple of reasons: it's cold and he was hungry.  He bolted in and headed straight for the food. I could have opened the door and called squirrels, and would have gotten him inside.  His hunger, his desires, these things had powered up his attention to the barest squeak of the door.  Now that he's eaten and is back out, he'll be slow to come in.  His desires are fulfilled so his attention is slackened.

What are my desires?  Do I desire to hear from and serve the Lord as passionately as the cat hungers for Meow Mix? (For the record, the food is always available, and he could probably miss a meal or two and be fine.)

Am I so focused on desiring to hear from God that I listen for the barest squeak of the door opening, or do I have to be sweetly enticed, begged by only one voice?

Doug

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