On Saturday night I left a window slightly open and our beloved kitty boy Max escaped. He is a three year old male with a friendly personality and a gentle way about him. As long as you promise not to tell our other cat Noah, I will confess that Max is the best cat I have ever had. He is independent, but seems to know just when you need a cuddle. He hops up on cat friendly laps during our gatherings and has won over many of the members of the Sellwood Faith Community. We were devastated to discover he was missing. I know that given the horrors of the world and the missing woman from a town down the road that a lost cat is small in the grand scheme of things. For us right now however our missing kitty is the defining issue of our lives.
Late on Sunday night we spotted Max in the neighbor’s yard. We were ecstatic. We sat patiently offering him our sweet encouragement and trying to entice him with food. And that was when I saw the power of fear. Max is terrified. His instincts are taking over so even we, his loving family, are scary. Except for one brief window where I fumbled and missed him, he has not approached us closely at all. This from the cat who is ever at my side when I’m working at home. Jeff cannot watch a tv show without Max on his chest. Our cat’s fear is a quest for self preservation, but it is actually preventing him for doing that which would be safest for him, which is to return to our house.
I too am filled with fear and not a little guilt. My fear revolves around how this tiny 7 pound boy would face up to the coyotes, skunks, and raccoons that live in this neighborhood. It powered me to stay up most of last night. I, who was fearful not too long ago to be out watering the front garden at 11pm, sat on our neighbor’s front stoop well into the early morning. This fear trumped that fear. I only ate one meal yesterday, and that was mostly because it was dinner with the Sellwood Faith Community. I’m sure I would have gone all day without eating if I had not had a social situation that demanded it. I love food, so this inability to eat is a mark of how caught up I am in this terror of Max being injured, killed, or lost for good. I am much more scatterbrained than usual yesterday and today. Fear, lack of food, and lack of sleep are combining to mean I am not at my best.
I try to take lessons from my life, especially the really hard bits. This crisis is a powerful reminder of how fear can shape our actions and thoughts. While I am struggling greatly now, I know from my own life that unnamed fear is the most insidious. We cannot be free from fear when we deny we are afraid. We can’t fully live when we don’t look at ourselves and our actions clearly. As we embark on this work of forming a new community I am afraid too. Afraid of failure, afraid of being a hard sell, afraid of being too soft of a sell, afraid of disrupting my child’s education if we have to move soon, afraid of damaging my reputation with my colleagues if we fail. I’m afraid we’ll succeed numerically, but create something without depth or soul. I’m afraid people won’t think the house is clean enough when they come over or that the food I’ve cooked will be bad. I don’t always remember these fears when I’m making decisions about what we are doing, but I think that I should. It might help me to be less like Max, motivated by fear and instinct in the wrong direction, and more able to have a better perspective. I’m less likely to make unhealthy choices like not sleeping when I’m operating out of a more honest place.
Our lives are a work of listing, learning, and of finding God in the midst of it all. We are called ever onward to be the best version we can be of who God made us. May you be aware of your fears and thereby able to learn from them……And may Max come home soon!
Postscript- Max came in the backdoor late Monday night and is currently being spoiled by his family.
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| Sweet friends in better times. |
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