AN ENCOUNTER

So, recently, Denise and I were heading towards Swayzee from North Marion via Troy Avenue when I saw a dead cat in the road.  “That’s so sad” I thought to myself.  I am a genuine animal lover and just hated to see that.  In keeping with my usual well-planned life, I soon found myself back on Troy Avenue heading back towards North Marion to finish what I had forgotten to do earlier.  As I passed by the same spot I noticed that the cat was not indeed dead but injured.
 
Now I had a problem.  What to do?  Many thoughts passed through my mind including simply driving past and running over the cat myself to “put it out of its misery.”  Yes, I am willing to admit that was one of the options I considered.  I was not looking for a project of mercy and not anxious to spend time, effort or money on this pathetic looking ball of black fur on the street.  “I don’t want a cat!” I said out loud as I argued with myself about what to do.  We lost our little dog, Coco last fall after 16 years and Denise and I agreed we were just fine without a pet at this time.  It was just too hard to say goodbye.

But, I couldn’t just leave it there could I?  I HAD to do something.  Having the soft heart (soft head?) that I do, I stopped to see what was up.  As I approached and was noticed by the cat it began to mew loudly while looking in my direction, seemingly as if it was thankful that I was coming.  While obviously injured and dazed, it was not fearful of me and responded to my approach.    It obviously wasn’t feral and seemed to really be glad to see me.  I petted it a bit and sort of looked it over.  It was bleeding from the mouth with a broken tooth and there was some blood on the street but not too much.  The cat was able to move on his own which was a good sign so I thought there was a pretty good chance it could recover.

So, I went back to the car and found a blanket in the trunk, wrapped the critter up and took him to the nearest vet.  I explained that I found this feline on the street and was hoping they could see how badly hurt it was.  I was immediately informed that I would have to pay for any care that they would provide.  (Groan) By now I was committed to seeing this through.  I had already made my choice when I stopped.  This injured and helpless animal was going to be my responsibility.  I wasn’t going to “finish it off,” nor was I just going to pass it by.  “Okay, I understand.”  So they looked it over and thought it might not be hurt too badly.  “A couple of days and we’ll know for sure.”

To the vet’s credit, when I saw the bill I knew they hadn’t charged me full price but had given me a break.  I didn’t mind paying it.  It was an interesting thing I noticed within myself.  When I went to get cat food and such, I found that I was getting the really high quality stuff.  Although not a conscious thought at first, it is as if I were saying, “Why would I go to the trouble of scraping this cat off the street only now to give it cheap care?”  I wanted it to have the best.  Why would I go to all the time, trouble and expense to save its life and mistreat it now?  That would be just ridiculous. I might just as well have left it in the street.   

I hadn’t been looking for a pet.  It wasn’t meeting any need I had.  I had no reason except for common decency to do anything for it.  And yet I found myself having great affection for it.  I had chosen to save its life and now I was so glad I did.  As it turned out “it” was a “he” and a neutered male at that, certainly someone’s pet at some time though now apparently abandoned. All efforts to locate an owner were fruitless.  Someone living in the area said it was common for people to abandon unwanted pets there.  He was all black except for some white on his chest and four white feet.  So, “Sox” came home with me and has taken up residence with Denise and I.

I notice something almost right away.  He pretty much followed me wherever I went.  He wanted to be right at my feet.  When I was gone, he slept under my chair.  I asked Denise, “Do you think he kind of ‘get’s it?’ Do you think he has any understanding what was done for him?”  She and I seem to think that he does.  Now, he runs to the door when I come home and greets me. (Anybody know a cat that does that?) 

I couldn’t help but see many parallels between this experience and that which we have with our Savior.

         The Lord didn’t have any need for us to fulfill.
         We were utterly helpless, broken and in grave danger.
         He chose to take full responsibility for us, carry us in His arms and pay the price for our
         healing.
         He gives us His best, loves us unconditionally and provides for our every need.
         He loves us because He chooses to love us not because He saw in us some basic goodness
         that deserved His sacrifice.

So what about me?  Do I desire to be right at the feet of my Savior as Sox always wants to be at mine?  Do I want His nearness, consistent nurturing and attention as Sox wants mine? Am I contented in His presence or do I tend to run after other things, possibly with a measure of gratitude only and occasional forays into surface relationship? 

38 Now it came to pass, as they went, that he entered into a certain village: and a certain woman named Martha received him into her house. 39 And she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard his word. 40 But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came to him, and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me. 41 And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things: 42 But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.

May I be wise enough to choose that good part!