Our cat, Molly, has what the local humane society calls the “personal assistant” purr-sonality. This means that whatever you are doing, Molly will be nearby just in case you need some help. Wrapping packages? She’ll gladly chew on the curling ribbon for you. Working on taxes? She’ll happily sprawl out over the paperwork on your desk or push ballpoint pens and paper clips onto the floor to keep you entertained. Just whatever she can do to help.
Unlike her boisterous brother Beau (also a cat), she doesn’t burst into a room demanding attention. Rather, she usually curls up just outside the door—an eavesdropper with whiskers. Whenever we have a group of people over, she’s likely to claim a spot under the coffee table as if she were an invited guest. She rarely gets close enough to anyone to be petted. She just wants to listen in on the conversation and stay nearby to help with any hospitality requirements.
Given all that, you won’t be surprised to hear that for years she has consistently joined me early in the morning during my quiet time. As I sit and read, work on a Bible study, or turn to the Lord in prayer, she just sits on the hassock in front of me purring softly. She’s rarely in the chair with me or on my lap, just right in front of me where she can be ready to help if needed, and where I can give her an occasional pat on the head or a rub behind the ears.
What is surprising is that recently she has come to expect that this shared time with me will happen on schedule—and to be quite demanding if it doesn’t! The coffee is set to perk at 6:30 AM, so if she hears it perking, and sees the sunrise, she knows I need to be in my chair in the living room. If I’m not moving in that direction, she now meows persistently outside the door of our bedroom to get my attention. After I roll out of bed, find my robe and slippers, and open the door, she takes off down the hall to keep our appointment with the Almighty.
Now wouldn’t you think that knowing the Lord of the Universe was willing to spend some time with me would be enough to get me out of bed? Shouldn’t it be enough that He who hung the stars and gives life to everything that has life may have something important to tell me? The answer to both questions is yes. Yet it helps to have a feline alarm clock.
And I don’t mind sharing my quiet time with Molly. After all, Psalm 150:6 says, Let everything that has breath praise the Lord. In this season of my life God is using this sweet little grayish cat to bolster my spiritual discipline. Her faithfulness keeps me faithful, and I’m ever so grateful.