Unedited

Nov. 29th:

The smallest concern in our family weighs the heaviest when a beloved kitty disappears early one morning before the sun is even up after an inadvertent letting her out of the door--no one notices at first, as mother and I are the only ones up, me letting kitty into the upstairs as I come up for a quick glass of water before going back to bed in the basement/garage, leaving kitty upstairs with mum, her opening the back door for only moments to let some breeze in after some burnt toast, not knowing curious kitty takes those few seconds to peek outside...

Mum leaves for work and I leave food in kitty's bowl before going back to bed in hopes that she finds it full before waking me up to ask for it. I toss and turn, not accustomed to sleeping days, with one ear tuned to listen for her to start purring next to me, or for when she finds her food bowl, whichever comes first...

When neither comes and I start to hear movement from the floor above me announcing Adrian and Diana are up but I hear no customary greetings from them towards a certain kitty who always gets many words and petting and love, I can't make myself stay in bed anymore and I leave the basement... Daylight greets me upstairs, but no kitty, and I ask Adrian and Diana where she is, and both answer "we thought she was with you down there" Adrian adding that she's probably sleeping in moms room, where she's known to curl up and sleep away the hours, but I just have to be sure, since she usually follows me around wherever I go, so I run up the next flight of stairs quietly to see if she's there. As soon as I see the empty bed I know but want to believe different, so I check Adrian's room, the closet, bathroom, and I try to find calm. I tell siblings eating breakfast in detached tones of my belief that kitty is outside--the same kitty who was a terrified stray kitten barely surviving cold and hunger just shy of 13 months ago, who it took weeks for me to earn her trust, and is still afraid of strangers and noises and sometimes her own shadow, and who hasn't been outside on her own since we first brought her home, her too scared...

Adrian says no. I want to believe him, so we both look again, calling out. In the basement, I check my bed, the sofa, and last of all the food bowl I had left her...It's untouched, and it's been nearly 6 hours since I first went upstairs with her... 

 As the hours pass since her disappearance, the emptiness doesn't, it only grows. And I think of  Jesus the good Shepherd who didn't rest, didn't stop looking, till He found the one lost sheep, and how it must have hurt...and my selfish heart tells Him But I had only one sheep, not 100. I lost everything. 100%, instead of 1%. And doesn't the ache burrow deeper and leave a greater emptiness when all is lost, instead of when just one something of many is lost?...

Darkness settles and so does my sadness. I'm scheduled to work the next three nights but call in asking for the first one off because of a flu I am just getting over, so I have a little extra time to look for her, but three nights prior cold weather finally came, along with heavy rain, so although I want to run out and stay out till I find her, my sickness and the necessity of getting well compels me to not stay out long. I leave the back door open and her food bowl out and every few minutes I stand outside and call out to her, while my soul cries out to God. 

Rain continues to fall outside, hope inside. 

Nov. 30th

It's morning. No more rain. Mom and I bundle up and head outside, determined to look. We walk the 2 mile walkway that's right outside our front door, since on all our other sides we're surrounded by other apartments and we hope to find her hidden in the bushes somewhere, just like when I first laid eyes on her. We see many things, but no kitty...

As time continues to pass since her leaving I remember certain things, not completely sure how they're all connected but knowing it all means something... My mind travels back to the past week, Nov.21st-27th:

At the beginning of the week I read about John the Baptist, who quite possibly supersedes Enoch, Elijah, and Elisha as my all-time favorite Bible hero.The day previous I had asked for courage to conquer and overcome evil, and John the Baptist was His answer. I've read about him many times, but this time was different. I read Matthew 11:11, and I read how the reason for his greatness rested in "when before his own disciples he refrained from seeking honor for himself but pointed all to Jesus as the Promised One." (My Life Today, pg. 329), I read how "His unselfish joy in the ministry of Christ presents the highest type of nobility ever revealed in man.", of how he insisted on less and less of him, and more of Christ, and as I had read about Johns life and recalled certain occurrences that had happened to me that very day, God pointed out in a very clear way how selfish I really am... in that moment the contrast between my life, and that of John's, revealed so much ugliness in my character... John, his very purpose in life was to introduce One to the aching multitudes who was so much greater than himself, that he felt unworthy to even wear His shoes...He didn't consider his own honor or preference along with the honor and glory of God...It was just Jesus...

That day I saw what God has seen all along. Courage is what I need, yes, but not the kind I had thought I needed, not to overcome the outside evil, but the evil inside first.The kind that says less of me;more of you...courage that takes the lowest place always and joys in the opportunity to bring glory to the Name above all names alone...

 The rest of the week brought an unraveling of many things in our family, as well as in the lives of friends. Many uncertainties, many unexpected events and circumstances beyond our control, and many personal struggles found me Thanksgiving eve at the end of myself in every way.For the rest of the weekend I asked God over and over what He was trying to tell me through all that was going on. I hadn't forgotten what I had learned about John the Baptist earlier in the week, but I sensed there was more...

And then the rain began...

In the basement with kitty, three nights in a row, He spoke of one thing to me... 

As the rain poured against the garage door I read of my need of His Spirit to pour into me. He spoke to me of my need of another Comforter, through In Heavenly Places pg's 335-338. The readings for the 24th and 27th especially. The word Comforter jumped out at me, and I knew what He was asking. He was asking if I understood that in order to receive His Spirit, I would have to continually be at the end of myself, just like the disciples were, just like John the Baptist was... Jesus had to leave, their hopes had to be all dashed and broken and poured out before The Comforter could come...Was I willing? He asked. One must need comforting in order for The Comforter to come. Can you make room for Me, and do you realize that if you say yes, there is more, more of the unraveling, more of the unexpected, before I can really, fully Comfort, before I can Come?...

Nov. 27th.

After three nights, I said yes... Yes, I was willing...

Although I still felt even more at the end of myself than before, I chose to believe. I believed His promise. Zech.10:1

As I got ready for bed after specifically asking God to keep me at the end of myself if that's what it takes to receive His Spirit in it's fullness, I thought that was the end of His blessings for the night, but decided to listen to a sermon. That is when I listened to Paul Ratsara's message. And as I listened to his sermon with kitty curled up next to me, I wept all through, just like I did with the first message I ever heard of his back in April. [If ever messages were preached meant by God directly for me, these two are it.]

The next day I continued to absorb what God had shared with me, and He reinforced in my mind the importance of believing--feeling or no feeling-- the truth that "The happiness of man is to know God and Jesus Christ whom He hath sent.". Jesus, to let Jesus be enough, be all... He reminded me that I agreed to be at the end of myself, so that He can fill...

The next morning, Nov. 29th, kitty disappears... 

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And this is where I'm at now Dec. 3, processing and struggling and realizing that this is nothing, it's just a cat and I can get another and haven't others actually suffered, while I just feel like this is suffering? It's true and I know this is nothing. But sometimes Jesus has to start at the nothing, the nothing that represents so much--the most innocent, fragile something in ones life in order to break one wide open to Him. And I see how gentle He is...The real suffering that I can't begin to imagine lies just ahead for all of us as His sheep, and He wants us to be ready, to be filled with His Spirit. He is preparing me, you, each of us, in our little aches of life, for the night that is about to settle in...

[Through another persons blog this song came to my attention Thanksgiving weekend and since then I have played it over and over...and after the 29th it's even more dear... Enter in... He wants us to enter in, into His fold, into His suffering, like John did...]

And all these thoughts, they're a mess and they've taken up too much space and turned into a post way too long, but it's okay... I want to remember these unedited thoughts, and remember how God has led and restored and given the best kind of courage and although this isn't real suffering, He has never counted a sorrow too shallow or too small to bend low and comfort, and has reminded me of the One who has actually suffered, and all in complete innocence. Isaiah 53.

If our hearts hurt over our one little lost lamb and we find it almost unbearable, how much more must His heart ache, He who has thousands upon thousands of lost sheep, each one just as dear as if they were all He had?...Much more dear than a cat, for these sheep are made in His very image--made by Him...

Fears creep in, old lies once believed that mustn't all good things come to an end after all,and isn't that why I never gave her an official name? and maybe kitty isn't really outside, but stuck somewhere in the basement, buried somewhere in the piles of boxes still needing to be unpacked, and maybe we'll find her one day a little too late? and terror grips, nights are long, but then He reminds me that I must trust with abandon because He is the Good Shepherd. --

(Stumbled on these two quotes online today, don't remember where I found them):

 “Faith never knows where it is being led, but it loves and knows the One who is leading.”--

“If through a broken heart God can bring His purposes to pass in the world, then thank Him for breaking your heart.”  -- Oswald Chambers

And I remember the bigger picture...I remember the example of a true Christian, John the Baptist, and how far I have to go...I'm reminded of the beloved hymn I Love to Tell The Story, of our responsibility as His sheep to tell just one Story...

"Are you using all your powers in an effort to bring the lost sheep back to the fold? There are thousands upon thousands in ignorance who might be warned. Pray as you have never prayed before for the power of Christ. Pray for the inspiration of His Spirit, that you may be filled with a desire to save those who are perishing. Let the prayer ascend to heaven, 'God, be merciful unto us, and bless us; and cause his face to shine upon us; that thy way may be known upon the earth, thy saving health among the nations'."--

In Heavenly Places, pg. 338. emphasis added.