A Little Wet Food

February 27, 2011

Several months ago we got a cat. Her name is Chloe. Despite never once ever planning on being lumped in with this group of people, I’m afraid that I have found myself turned into, how you say, a “cat person.” Sarah and I had talked about someday getting a dog, but after being around dogs more I’ve realized how sort of gross they are (no offense, if you’re a dog lover). They smell, they chew on things that weren’t meant to be chewed on, and you have to take them outside to do their business (even in the freezing, biting cold of winter!). My mind was changed. Never, ever will I own a dog.

We weren’t planning on getting a cat, but one day last May a stray showed up outside our apartment building and kept trying to follow us inside. She must have been hungry. She didn’t have a collar, but she had a line in the hair around her neck where a collar used to be, so we figure someone abandoned her. She was out there for about a week before I told Sarah I wanted to take her to a veterinarian friend of mine to see if she had a chip in her to tell us who the owner was. I did, and she didn’t, and the vet did a checkup and said she was only a year old. And by golly, that little ball of fur hooked her claws in us and we just couldn’t let her go. So here she sits, next to me on the couch. Almost as if she had planned it all along.

Recently we started giving Chloe wet food along with her dry food. Apparently it’s a big deal with cats. They love it. I wake up in the morning and one of the first things I do is give her some wet food. She goes nuts. After only about a week of wet food she had figured out that when I got up it was time to eat. So every morning she whines and cries from the minute my alarm goes off until I’m putting food in front of her. At first it was cute. At first.

Now each morning I hear my alarm and I know the next sound I’ll hear is that dumb cat whining for some wet food. Almost like she’s entitled to it. Like she deserves the stuff.

One morning when this was particularly getting on my nerves it hit me that we’re really the same way with God. We’re perfectly happy to leave Him alone to sleep or do whatever He’s doing, but the minute we want something we start to whine. We complain. We crawl on His chest and scream in His face. We like our wet food, we deserve our wet food. How dare He hold back from giving us a little wet food?

I tell Sarah that Chloe is our little reminder that God is our Provider. She showed up at our door with no home, no food, not even a name. But we brought her in and made her our own. She doesn’t worry about the electric bill or whether food will be in her bowl in the morning. She doesn’t know to worry. She just has everything she needs. She is provided for.

God has provided for us continually. He has blessed us with family and friends and a warm home. He makes sure we are taken care of. He brought us in and gave us a name. But in spite of all this, we somehow think we can just go about our lives, doing what we want to do, and only pay Him any heed if we want something. Almost like we’re entitled to it.

But still He gives, even amidst the whining, because of His great love for us. Because He cares for us. Because every once in a while, He takes great joy from giving us a little wet food.

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