Laughing in The Lord's Healing

Memories are good even if they bring back sad times. They show you how far you have come. At least that was my experience last night. I was sitting in a very large, very comfortable chair at my son't house while dog sitting Big Dog and Pup. I had my legs up on the ottoman, a paperback novel in my hands and a purring gray cat on my chest. Her paws were holding my face as she tried to lick my chin. I laughed out loud, not because it tickled, but because she reminded me of pet sitting four years ago.

My kids were on a camping trip that summer. All I had to do was feed the dog twice a day and check on the cats. By the third day, the cats were clamoring for attention. They were used to having laps to sits on, hands to pet them, and kids to play with. I decided to sit a few minutes and keep them company. It wasn't long until I had an extremely happy kitty on my lap. She purred, she kneaded, she rubbed. She curled around my neck. She circled my lap. She smelled my hair, my ears, my nose and mouth. She licked my chin, my hands, and cheeks. She spent the next minutes giving love and receiving it. I petted her where she wanted to be petted, scratched her where she wanted scratching, and talked to her. Finally, with her face against my cheek, and paws around my neck, she settled in, purring gently into my ear.

I cried.

As happened so often those first years my husband was in prison, I was caught off guard by emotions I didn't know were there. I was never ready for tears when they came. This day was no exception. The sudden flow of tears released a longing in me--a longing for companionship, for love. Until I experienced the cat's almost frantic need for attention and love, I hadn't realized how deep my need also was. Cutting myself off from people had taken its toll on me. I came to the realization that I needed attention and care as much as the cat did.

My kids encouraged me to get a pet, but I declined. It wasn't because I don't like animals. I do like them, but after weighing the pros and cons, the deciding factor was this. I didn't want to loose anything else that I had grown to love. First it was my husband. Then it was my little dachshund, my constant companion and chair-mate who always sat on my lap, the one who let my tears wet his black, shiny fur. He was no longer with me because my neighbor's dog had attacked him on my porch and I had to put him down. There was no way I wanted to become emotionally attached to anyone or anything. The pain of separation, whether from a human (my husband) or an animal, was just too great.

I still haven't gotten a furry companion, and probably won't any time soon. It isn't so much the fear of loss now. It's more the problem of their care when I leave for a day or two. Maybe someday I will.

So why I did I laughed as the cat licked my chin last night? That long ago memory, for sure, but mainly the realization that I was thoroughly enjoying her company as much as she was enjoying mine. This time, I had not been surprised by tears of sorrow, alone-ness, and need. I had been surprised by a joy and a freedom that the Lord's healing has silently, slowly, livingly brought.

Laughing in the Lord's healing,
Jan