A Cat’s Tale

About six months ago, life was crazy hectic. I felt pulled in a thousand different directions and as though I was pretty much failing at everything. Then my youngest daughter came crying to me, “Mom, something is wrong with Belle.”

 

After scooching myself under my daughter’s bed to coax the cat out, I realized that something was very, very wrong. The cat’s tail was completely limp and lying at a ninety-degree angle from her body. The base of her tail was swollen and she was clearly in a great deal of pain.

 

While sitting in the vet’s office, I listened to the verdict: a broken tail. It likely happened when she jumped up onto something and lost her balance. The possibilities of it healing were very slim. If we amputated the tail, it might allow Belle to be more comfortable in using the litter box. I sat there with my tween, listening to her sobs, and knew that I could not have the amputation done right then. So I asked if there were anything we could possibly do to save Belle’s tail.

 

“Not really. We could do a surgery, but that’s quite expensive and there are no guarantees. Lots of cats have tails like this, it’s really not a big deal.”

 

My daughter cuddled the cat’s carrier close while I paid for pain meds before we headed home. Her tears of sadness mirrored my own. “It’s just a tail!” I reminded myself … yes … and no.

 

Belle’s tail was her trademark. When playful, it stuck straight up, like a happy exclamation point as she pounced on toys. When curious, her tail curled into a question mark, as though to say, “What is THAT?” When hungry, her flirtatious tail wrapped itself in and around our legs as we stumbled over Belle to feed her.

 

Now, this most expressive part of our Belle was completely limp. Our normally playful cat fell off furniture as she tried to climb and jump as usual—no longer having the balance provided by a working tail.

 

I let the family know the vet’s prognosis and we voted as a family to keep her tail for now. If it became difficult for Belle, then we’d have it removed.

 

As I was swallowed back into the vortex of life’s chaos, my heart ached. It is such a little thing, a cat’s tail; but, oh, I missed its swagger!

 

About a week later, as we worked together to clean up dinner, I watched Belle eat, her tail still lying limply behind her. In my heart, I offered a prayer, “Heavenly Father, I KNOW it’s just a tail. But I am worn out, I am giving so much to so many and trying my best to give my best. Please, please, I know it is a silly thing when there are so many, many more important needs in the world … but, maybe, if you have a tiny, cat-tail-sized-miracle, could we have it? Please? My belief won’t fade if Belle isn’t healed and I won’t suddenly question Thy love for me, but just, please. If possible.”

 

Now if anyone reading this is thinking, “Really? A cat’s tail? With everything this world needs, you prayed for a cat’s tail?” Please, believe me, I realize how silly the request is. But I also know that my Father in Heaven wants to know of my every desire and in my exhaustion and heaviness of heart (due to other, much heavier burdens), the plea came from my heart.

 

It didn’t happen all at once, but her tail did begin to heal. At first, we thought we saw movement in the tip, then came small twitches and eventually over weeks and weeks, she became fully healed.

 

The Lord doesn’t always heal the cat’s tails in our lives and often doesn’t heal the large, gaping wounds in our hearts; however, every-so-often, there will be a tiny, cat-tail-sized-miracle that happens in our life as a reminder that the Lord is very, very aware of us and loves us more than we can comprehend.

 

It is up to us to grasp these reminders of the Lord’s love and hold them close to our hearts.

 

This last week held difficulties and heartache that are very difficult to move myself forward through. Perhaps because of them, I have missed my son more than usual. I miss his hugs. I miss running to the store to grab muffins to munch on while we watch Good Mythical Morning or Studio C together … I miss constantly having to ask him to turn down the television or to close the pantry door. I just miss having him close.

 

But, I would not wish him home.

 

My son is holding truths out for others to grasp, if they will—that there IS hope. There is peace and joy, in this life. The Lord hears our every prayer and loves us. Life’s burdens are not meant for us to carry alone. We are here, together, to love each other and to help each other carry the burdens of life.

 

We have a loving God in Heaven who is THERE for each of us. If my son, during his two year mission is able to share this knowledge and hope with only one of God’s children, this sacrifice will have been worth it.

 

In the meantime, when my heart is sore, I see my Belle’s tail curling up behind her and I remember that the Lord is aware of my heart and is here for me.