This cat really makes my heart smile. He's got SO much personality and is SO playful and SO loving...making him SO spoiled.
But he also teaches me much about my heavenly Father. Crazy, how much.
He's not still often, but when I reach out to give him some love, he basks in it. Sometimes. Sometimes the rascal in him wants to push me away or play-bite or something else, but if I am persistent, he gives up and lets me love on him.
I love it. Other times he is the initiator. When I am sitting at the computer, he will crawl up in my lap, place a paw on either side of my face and begin nuzzling my chin as he purrs. If I ignore him, he gently uses his claws to "grab hold" of either side of my neck and push his face harder against mine. If I still ignore him, he will inch his back feet (on his long lanky body) up my torso until he is basically sitting on my chest, holding on lest he fall off, purring at high decibals, rubbing his face on my mine and purr/meowing at the same time. A demand. Plain and simple. LOVE. ME. NOW. I really love it. It melts my heart. This cat who was abandoned and abused by another, sees the difference in me. Knows me. Trusts me.
The other day, I awoke to find him snuggled next to me. Instead of getting up right then, I readjusted and began petting him talking softly to him. As I was talking I yawned...his response was priceless. He looked up at me through sleepy eyes, stretched out even more as he was already pressed up against my side (under the covers), gave a deep purr and sigh at the same time. When that energy was spent...he went right to sleep. A deep sleep. The picture of contentment. Safe. Sheltered. Loved. No reason for alarm or concern.
As I watched him, I thought about God. How sweet it is to curl up in his lap. How he wants time with me...and I push him away. How he keeps calling to me and I WANT to come, but I want to do other things as well, so I push him away. How he reaches out to me and I reach back but even then sometimes I am busy looking other direction as I hold onto his hand. I hate to admit it, but it's usually when I am in need that I climb up into his lap and put my hands on either side of his neck and demand that he give me attention. He does. Always.
I'm so much like Tex. Not still often. My personality gets in my way some times. I want to be a "Mary" sitting at Jesus feet (or like Tex, cozied up to someone who loves me) and yet most times find myself being "Martha" (too busy to recognize the gift of love being given) or just plain lazy.
The good thing is, I'm a work in progress. I think of that song I sang as a child:
"He's Still working on me. To make me what I ought to be. It took him just a week to make the moon and the stars, the sun and the earth and jupiter and mars. How loving and patient he must be, 'cause he's still working on me."