When I found them, they were behind bars, eying me with a certain feline wariness. Four-month-old twin brothers, abandoned in a parking lot, they desperately needed a good home.
I fell in love with them immediately and couldn’t wait to set them free. Named for two biblical heroes — the bigger one is Boaz, the smaller one, Samson — they explored our house, one room at a time, until they found a sofa they liked and settled down.
Welcome to a cat’s idea of heaven.
They were inseparable at first, like some strange creature with two heads and five legs. Uni-cat. They ate side by side, slept in a furry pile, and bathed each other with unbridled affection.
Before long, their very different personalities began to emerge.
Boaz is quieter, less animated. He’s content to simply be in the same room with me and seldom demands my attention.
Eating and sleeping are his favorite activities. Chase the little red laser dot? Too much trouble. Bat at the cotton fish dangling from a pole? Not today. Curl up like a striped tea cozy? Yes, please.
Samson, on the other hand, constantly seeks me out.
He rubs against my legs. Jumps onto my lap.
Strokes my hand with his paw. Parks himself by my computer.
Implores me with his gray-green eyes.
Feed me. Pet me. Hold me.
Scratch under my chin.
See how much I love you?
Samson isn’t hesitant to ask for what he needs, whenever he needs it. None of this business of waiting until he catches my eye. He leaps into my arms without warning and makes himself right at home.
Please understand, I cherish them both and care for them equally. They are fed the same amount of food in matching bowls, their litter boxes are both kept tidy, and wherever I sit, I make sure there’s room for them on either side of me.
After all, I have two hands. I can pet them both at once.
Yet, this is what they’ve taught me, these two gray tabbies with their silky coats and crazy long tails: when we seek our Master’s company, we experience His love more fully. Not because He loves us more, but because we’ve spent more time in His presence.
The Bible assures us, “The Lord loves the just and will not forsake his faithful ones” (Psalm 37:28). His mercy, His grace, are offered freely and equally to all who call him Lord.
But if we’re unwilling to admit our neediness, we’ll never know the extravagant love of God in the same way as our brothers and sisters who throw themselves at Him by the hour.
Those wise souls? They pray, they plead, they praise, they even purr — the Lizzie Revised Version of “worship the Lord with gladness” (Psalm 100:2). Gladness isn’t formal. It’s joyful. Enthusiastic.
True worship isn’t going through the motions. It’s going to the throne. Seeking an audience with our King. Showing Him how much we love, trust, and adore Him. Receiving all He has for us — not because we are good, but because He is good and kind and generous.
How might you spend time in His presence today?
Lord, Your Word makes it clear that You love us. Show us how we can best love You. Teach us the true meaning of worship. Help us experience Your presence. Give us the strength to admit we’re weak. Set us free from our cages, so we can leap into Your arms and know we’re home.