My little cat, Jack, advances even further in the direction of being fully alive. Once wounded, this now strong kitty first relearns how to purr. Then he figures out how to meow again. Then, he moves past his wounds and chooses to love and serve others. Finally, he begins to master basic feline behaviors like kneading.
My daughter asks me, "Mom, what else will Jack do as he becomes more and more like a healthy cat?" I have no idea. But we wait and we watch.
Recently, a friend delivers a gift to our three cats. It's a huge, fluffy cat bed to sit by my rocking chair. But we have three cats. Who will get this soft bed? Jack has no chance, especially with that one cat (Louie, alpha male) who dominates every household scene. Normally, Jack cowers around the others. The three cats stand there, observing this amazing bed.
Then it happens. Jack moves forward and claims the bed for his own. He transforms from cowardly to courageous right before our eyes. He kneads the bed, turns a few circles, and has slept there ever since.
I watch that little cat, and I remember God's work as Healer.
On our way to recovering from whatever wounds us, we suddenly realize the plans in store for us. One day, we find we have the courage to move forward, claim our dreams, and stand up to those that threaten us. We discover our place. We find we are so healthy that nobody even remembers where we came from or how we were wounded.
We find we are fully alive, doing all the things we were meant to do. Nothing holds us back.