By now I should know that the Lord takes care of things.
Unfortunately, as usual, I just don’t seem to be able to process the lesson. This time it involved moving my cats to their new home. I agonized about it, for months. I had nightmares about it. Yes, I had turned it over to the Lord, praying about it, but I just can’t seem to get the hang out of the fact that the Lord takes care of us, and far better than we can imagine.
I had a plan. I would drug and transport the cats, putting them into the guest room, gradually introducing them to my mothers’ four felines. Taking time, I would let them interact the way they do on My Cat from Hell, following all the right steps. The week before moving, I was so upset, I was hyper ventilating, and having tachycardia. If I had not known it was stress, I would have transported me to the ER.
Moving day turned into a day of total and complete confusion. I was hysterical, trying to catch Bubbles, who literally broke her carrier, trying to escape. I did manage to catch Baby. Martina put her in her SUV and drove her to her new house. When I released her, I did not even see her for nearly eighteen hours.
Sunday, my sister managed to trap and catch Madam de Pompadour. She was released the same place Baby was released. I saw Baby. Madam, being of sterner stuff, began exploring.
On Monday, Cathy was able to bully Bubbles, my precious, huge, calico, into a carrier. She complained the entire drive. Released, like the others, she disappeared. Baby began to emerge from hiding – just a little. Bubbles was fairly quick to explore, claiming the house as her own.
Tuesday brought Hoss Cartwright to his new home. By this time Madam, Baby, and Bubbles were fairly well acclimated. Hoss went into hiding. Bubbles slept with me that night. So did Bat Masterson when he was moved, on Wednesday. By Sunday, Bat was roaming all over the house. Baby was seeping with me. Bubbles was happy.
There has been only one hissy fit. We’re eating from the same bowls, drinking the same water, sharing Meow Mix, and using the same litter box. Everyone is getting along.
The moral of the story is quite simple. Just let the Lord take care of things. The Lord had a much better way of doing things than did I. Maybe the process took so long so I would have something to truly think about, going into Lent. I have a lot of things to think about, including the fact that I’m now living on faith. You would think, after five years of going through this stuff, I would get the hang of it, and learn my lesson. Evidently, I’m not there – yet.
The Lord in infinitely patient.