The other day, I was at Dr. Warner’s house and needed to get something out of his shed. I thought it’d be a good idea to take Abby the cat with me.
Not that I like cats. I hate cats. I just don't like going to the shed at night alone. Anyway…
Abby wasn’t really thrilled about going outside. She’s kind of an indoor cat.
So when we got to the shed, she kind of flipped out.
She crawled right up underneath the RV.
I have no idea how she got up in there, or where she went, but she was gone.
I sat there calling for her and she was just terrified of me. I know she wasn’t thrilled about being crammed in the underside of the RV, but I couldn’t convince her that I was a better alternative.
I even tried to bribe her with cheese!
She loves cheese.
She’s also lactose intollerant, but that’s another story.
This story has a happy ending.
At least, she isn’t hiding under the RV anymore.
I left her there for a couple hours before I came back with Dr. Warner to find her huddled in a corner of the shed. She was more than happy to come in out of the cold by then.
The point, and of course I do have one, is that sometimes I feel like Abby.
I feel like, even though God is calling me in out of the cold, I would rather crawl deeper into the underside of the cold, dark, metaphorical RV.
It’s kind of like what Kiwi did the next day…