Growing up, I always thought I was a dog person.
Then I got my cats, and my life will never be the same. See, I always thought that what I loved about dogs was that they’re always happy to see you and have your attention. I thought that a cat wouldn’t like me, or that I’d be frustrated by its aloofness.
But having been a cat owner for six months now, what I’ve really come to love about cats is how hard they are to love sometimes–how much work it takes to develop a relationship with a cat and gain its trust, how rewarding it is when it pays off, even in the smallest way. (I joke that those are the same reasons I was initially attracted to my husband)
My two cats are very different. Pippin is a precious, dainty lady, a true angel. I swear she never does anything wrong, besides drool on my face in the middle of the night.
Bombadil, on the other hand… is a big, boisterous boy. If Pippin is the perfect cat, Bombadil is the real one. He talks all the time, regardless of our sleep schedules. He begs for food, he whines to go outside. He shreds the carpet. This cat’s quirks have taken some getting used to–no surprise, since we adopted him as an adult, and have no idea what his life was like before rescue, whereas we pretty much raised Pippin.
Before owning cats, I had absolutely no perspective for the behaviors that characterize them, but I’ve been doing a lot of research lately (because of the carpet-clawing), and my major conclusion at this point is that there’s no one right way to be a cat. And more than that, there’s a deep, instinctive reason for everything my cats do, even the things I find destructive.
Realizing this has changed my perspective from “what do I want to change about this little goblin of a cat?” to “what are Bombadil’s motivations? What about his environment is influencing him to behave this way? What does he need in order to feel safe in this environment?” Because clearly, the behavior I find frustrating is just a symptom of an unmet need, a gap of understanding between us.
Asking these questions helps me recognize Bombadil’s needs–and once I do that, I’m able to try to meet them, rather than trying to change his behavior to better suit my desires. When I choose to love the cat despite his catness, I can look at him scratching the carpet in futility and ask myself “what can I do to help him channel this energy?” Love doesn’t blame or shame; it purposefully creates space where one can be, and where one’s natural instincts and desires can be directed in healthy ways. At that point, when I’m intentionally acknowledging my cat’s fundamental nature, any guidance or rebuke I give him comes from the desire to protect him and help him grow.
The biggest thing my cats have taught me is that it stops being hard to love someone unconditionally when you simply accept them for what they are. A cat may not see what motivates you, and he probably won’t even recognize that you’re working to redirect his behaviors. But if you love him for what he is, he’ll have no reason not to trust you to take care of him–and you’ll have the patience to endure through the teaching.
You probably know by now that I can’t help but see the connection to the way Jesus loves us here.
Patiently. That’s exactly how Jesus loves us–though He does it perfectly, whereas I still have to bite my tongue sometimes to keep from cursing at the cat.
Jesus accepts our whole selves, and loves us for all the messes we cause. And He doesn’t need research to find what we need, because He knows us more deeply than any researcher ever could. In His love, Jesus knows us perfectly. And so there’s no need for Him to lash out against us, because He feels the hurts that drive us, and He knows that unconditional, grace-filled love is the only thing that can truly heal us and redirect our path. Jesus comes with compassion into a torn-up carpet of a life and shows us a better way.
In the end, there’s no one right way to be a human. There’s only the question: have you surrendered your life to the love of Jesus?
When the answer to that is yes, His love will transform you–guiding and correcting, giving purpose and assurance. When I am assured of Jesus’s love for me, fear and shame can’t hold me. I know He made me to be exactly who I am. I’m free to be, to exist, free to trust Him completely.
Human love is, and never can be, that perfect–but all of this is to say that I truly believe our lives are meant to reflect the love of Jesus, in every respect, even when it comes to the cats who share that life with us. And praise God, He loves us more that we even love our sweet pets, and His mercy stretches far further than human mercy. Praise God–He gives His goodness to us freely, irrespective of the brokenness we bring before him, and He has the enduring patience not to leave us to figure things out for ourselves.
‘And it will be said: “Build up, build up, prepare the road! Remove the obstacles out of the way of my people.” For this is what the high and lofty One says– he who lives forever, whose name is holy: “I live in a high and holy place, but also with him who is contrite and lowly in spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly and to revive the heart of the contrite. I will not accuse forever, nor will I always be angry, for then the spirit of man would grow faint before me– the breath of man that I have created. I was enraged by his sinful greed; I punished him, and hid my face in anger, yet he kept on in his willful ways. I have seen his ways, but I will heal him; I will guide him and restore comfort to him, creating praise on the lips of the mourners in Israel. Peace, peace, to those far and near,” says the LORD. “And I will heal them.”‘ – Isaiah 57:14-19
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