From then on he is "a family member", so I have to treat him like a child. When there is no cat food at home, I spared not our chicken meat or beef on the dinner table. When he gets sick, I must bring him to a vet, sparing not my wallet, only because I promised to treat him as "a family member". It occurred to me that once we trusted the Lord as our Savior, we become family members of God, and God then sticks to His promise, caring for us at all times, even when we often do not appreciate His love and intent.
After this little thing entered our house, in no time he found a dark corner under the kitchen counter, and never come out to show himself. We placed his food on the ground, and he sneaked out to eat it only in the night. All through the day he hid in the hole. Yet he was clean enough to go to bathroom only in his litter pot. After much reflections, I came to understand. He is "psychologically damaged". After he was born, his human family moved away, leaving them under the house starving almost to death. Luckily a kind person picked them up and placed them at the clinic. They may have been molested by dogs and rough boys, and so he is always behaving in a panic mode. Two weeks passed, and I still haven't seen him. I got impatient. One night I slept in the den close to the kitchen. Late at night I heard him sneak out to eat, so I have to race against him towards the hole and blocked it with newspapers. Afterwards he would crouch with visible trembling in a corner between the wall and a file cabinet. I tied a bundle of scrap paper on a string to tease him, which normal kittens would invariably dive for. Not him, he had no desire to play at all.
I thought, what a poor cat, that has even lost the ability for childhood delight? My home is big, safe, clean, and warm, just like the new life the Lord Jesus has offered to us. Yet he was dragged down by his psychological baggage, filled with imaginary fears of everything, and hid himself only at that corner. It was just like us, struggling in our life of drudgery, not aware of the availability of God's kindness and affection. We are equally fools.
One day he was no more at that corner. Only at nights occasionally my daughter claimed seeing him in the living room, but tried as we did, we found him nowhere. He was alive, for he continued to go to his food box and litter box some time in the night. One night we had a party. Afterwards one of us found him jumping back to his hiding place. Now we know! For 2 weeks he had been hiding in the grand piano, in the gap between the big metal harp and the wooden wall. Our piano playing should have deafened his ears, I thought.
To deliver him out of his psychological mire, I thought of two ways: one is to turn myself into a cat, learn cat's talk, then tell him I love him and he can safely live and eat and sleep in my house all his life. This is like the Lord Jesus being born to the world and live out God's nature among men. But I am incapable of doing it. Then there is a second way: just keep on loving him by my actions. Luckily Purrkin still had a cat's esprit, and did slowly gain his confidence in our environment. He began to come out for a walk more often. After one month or two, finally we got to the point of holding him in our arms.
What a loving embrace! It was like the Prodigal Son at his father's arms. Who had the warmest feelings at heart? Not the Son, but the Father. My wife held him and said, "Purrkin, oh Purrkin! Don't you know that some one loves you? You can live safely here. There is no one to molest you or scare you . . ." This little thing was quite sensitive to love, perking up his ears, curling himself up in our arms, and staring at our eyes with his big innocent eyes. This is strange indeed. It was our hand that fed him and rubbed him. Why did he not worship our hands as his Buddha, staring at our hands only? He was smart enough to look into our eyes, to learn of our intents. On the other hand many Christians believed in the Lord only because they liked the blessing hand of God. They have never learned to look boldly into the face of the Lord Jesus, and understand His heart instead. We are no more wiser than cats.
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After 3 months, he has become full grown, and very handsome, with long hind legs like a cheetah. He had a rich variety of noises, one for talking to himself, one for asking for one more piece of meet, one for saying Thank You, and one for claiming his turf against all imaginary competitors or predators. My cousin Pat said he must be a Burmese cat, because he has such a rich "vocabulary".
I think now he understands we love him, but can never fathom why we love him. We like him being so handsome, but we would still love him if he is ugly. He may not know how beautiful he is in our eyes. But to us, his innocent childlike staring at our face, his big ears, his lion-like chin with white fur, are all sources of endless joy to us. I began to perceive that the reason that God loves you and me are truly beyond our imaginations. Some theologians said God is lonesome, so He needs to create men to become objects of his love. What a stupid idea that puts a limited ability on God's own nature! We are a gang of sinners, ugly with a stench, yet God loved us enough to send His Son for our redemption and cleansing. Words fail to describe how marvelous a love it is. For a while I thought God loved us because we have a little resemblance to His Son, like my inexplicable fondness of that girl at a Miao village in inland China, just because she looked so much like my daughter. But even this cannot explain God's love, for we love Purrkin not because his orange color blends well with the color of our carpet and furniture.
Soon he developed a big appetite, with a consequential quantity of bodily output. All the most modern technology could no longer cover the odour thereof. So we let him out to the backyard. He would wait for his meals at our glass door. If you come to my home, I would bring you out to the backyard. He is still afraid of strangers, but seeing you sitting down, he would approach you until he is 10 feet away. Then he would lie down, and assess your reaction. If you are still unmoved, then 2 minutes later he would come to 5 feet away, and repeat the process. If you are still indifferent, he would come within one foot from your legs, go around you once, and finally touch you with his tail. If you gently touch him, he would come and lean on your legs, and you have become his friend. We love him most when he quietly sneaks up to under our legs and rub on us with his warm fuzzy fur. However, this "surprise", "furry", approach of his is precisely a nightmare to those friends of ours who fear cats. They cannot stand even all these beautiful verbose description of one that we love. C.S. Lewis said his encounter with God was a "surprise by joy". Yet too many people think that God is a tyrant who wants to rob us of our delights of life.
Cats may not have human minds, yet they do have emotions like us. Purrkin likes being held in your arms and being rubbed and tickled. I would hold him like a baby, belly up. I can hold his paw, and he would be sensible enough to hide his claws so as not to hurt me. Sometimes I put him down and get up to go, he would catch my legs from behind, and tried to hold it with his paws, still with hidden claws, hoping to detain me, and stay with him a bit more. This unique motion of his moved me almost to tears. The feelings of a cat sometimes surpasses those of a human. God sent His Son here, meaning to expect us to catch His feelings for us. We comprehended it not at all, and killed him on the cross. God the Father hid His face in tears, seeing His Son die, yet He still bid us to repent and to accept His offer of love. Isn't it wonderful?
Then came a weekend, when we lost him from Thursday to Sunday. There was no response to our calling him. I was down with the flu, and could only spare a little thought to worry about him. How can he stand without food for 4 days? Or else he has learned to rob other cats of their food? Then I noticed that I have not seen the neighbors' cats either. May be they have all gone to a cats' conference, where there is a lot of dead mice or dead birds for their banquet. Finally we could bear it no more, so we prayed, "Lord, You gave us this cat, which has brought us much joy. If You decide to take him back, please do so gently, that he doesn't suffer much, such as being half crushed by a car and languishing for hours . . ." Next morning, I went off to work. My wife came downstairs with a heavy heart. The backyard was still empty as ever, there was no sight of him at his usual spot. She felt quite dejected. After a while she stretched and saw over the hot water tank cabinet next to our kitchen window a bit of yellow fur. Purrkin has come home!. He was tired and hungry. My wife knelt on the floor, thanked God deeply, then opened the door to hold him in her arms, and she cried and cried. It was like the Prodigal Son coming back, and his Father said, "This son of mine has been raised from the dead and lost and found. He deserves our celebration." Oh friend, you and I have run far off from God, and wandered at will. How it hurts the heart of the heavenly Father whose heart bleeds for us and worry for our hard-headed recklessness. How much He yearns for you to return to His bosom! This is the gospel of the Bible.
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If you feel like accepting Jesus into your life, you can sincerely and earnestly pray to him: Just find a quiet place, and say "Lord Jesus, I heard you love me, and that you died for my sins. I heard you were raised from the grave, and can live in my heart. My life has a lot of ugly dirty chapters. I admit I am a sinner. Please come into my heart to stay, be my Savior. Help me to feel your love. You promised to give me a new life, please do so and clean up my heart. In Jesus' name I pray, Amen." If you do this sincerely, you will taste peace in your heart. Get a Bible and start reading the gospel of John. It will help you grow. You may find some radio stations that teaches the Bible in a way that helps you feel God's presence. If you can, go to a Bible-teaching church.
