Chosen

“Pick me! Pick me!” the bouncing child screamed, arms raised and waving.

As kids, we all wanted to be chosen to be on the best team, whether at recess, P.E. or for a ball team. If we were, to be honest, we still do. Oh, maybe it’s not for a team, but we feel good to be chosen for a part in a play, to sing a solo at church, to lead a group, or a job promotion. Being chosen for anything makes us feel… well, special.

To me, adoption is one of the best forms of being chosen, even though many children who are, might disagree. They were desired, sought out, more than likely prayed for, and selected from numerous infants. What could be better than that?

Last year, my husband and I were adopted by a stray cat literally without the papers, of course. Already too busy for the two dogs I had, a stray cat didn’t entice me, even though I was a cat lover at heart unless this cat was a mouser. Hmmm.

Here’s the Story

Upon arriving home, a grown, young cat strolled around our door, acting like it owned the place. Deliberately avoiding feeding this critter we barely acknowledged its existence when coming or going, in hopes it would move on to the next country house. Instead, this calico insisted on meeting us every time, greeting us with a leg rub and meow.

Never leaving our property, she stayed outside for a week, before crossing into the warehouse where our apartment is located. Cases of Bibles stacked on pallets from my husband’s work provided immediate interest.

Snoozing on the forklift seat when not leaping between uneven pallets, we were surprised she stayed without food or water. Occasionally, she’d saunter outside, always returning. After a few days, we caved in and gave her water. By the next, she had a name, cat food, and litter.

The litter box remained clean. No other messes were found. Puzzled, we quickly learned She had been escaping out on her own. Turning the corner around some boxes, my husband witnessed this small calico shoving its flattened, distorted head underneath our outside door, where the threshold was missing. Looked like Wiley Coyote on Looney Tunes.

By now, daily visits to the warehouse were made to stroke this cat. Our barking dogs didn’t raise one hair, until meeting face to face, sniffed each other with some growling and hissing introductions. Before long, Cali let them know who reigned. Limited indoor visits were allowed for cuddling and play.

Cali won my heart.

Cali won part of my heart with each visit, as I could imagine this cat’s theatrics and visualize facial expressions. Her personality exposed itself by licking and following us like a dog. She even begged like a dog at dinner. The dog had to move over for the cat in the bed.

Nervous about no litter box inside, we were baffled by no accidents. That is until my husband saw she was toilet-trained. Here we were with a special cat that could communicate, hunt, play with the dogs, ate dog food, and acted like one, too. She definitely had the loyal part down.

One beautiful spring day, she meowed to go outdoors, and left, without coming back.

Plagued with stress for multiple reasons, four months later, I walked out in the warehouse to hear a faint meow. Unsure how a cat would get in, my gut suspected Cali might have returned, so called her name. A pregnant cat ran toward me. Since I can’t see, I couldn’t positively identify her without someone else. She seemed feral and comfortable simultaneously.

My cat had her babies and life has returned to normal, leaving me to reflect over this relationship. Cali wanted US! She was patient and didn’t force herself upon us, but never left initially.

As Christians, we are adopted into God’s family.

God chooses us. We’re adopted.

God makes His existence be known to us, like Cali. We might resist at first until we see the benefits and learn His character. Finally, we allow Him to come in, but our relationship is a bit distant but should grow over time. Eventually, a storm might strike, and  God seems to disappear, but really He is nearby. Then, when the storm is at its worst, He makes His presence known.

I realize this cat didn’t sacrifice its life for me, nor was she perfect. However, it does serve as an analogy of how we become aware of God, learn to believe and accept Jesus, and form a relationship with Him.

Have you let God truly adopt you, or are you afraid to get too close?

© 2020, Jena Fellers. All rights reserved.