From the desk of the Tiger Lily.
All my life I have been accused of being too sensitive, feeling things "too deeply", taking things too personally, and all that pother. It's true that initial emotional responses for things that truly move me tend toward tears rather than the alternatives, even joyful moments or inspirational mediums such as music that can truly transport and uplift the soul on wings that seem to reach Heaven in communing with the Creator.
Out here in the briar patch, it is so lovely in the quietude and peace, which is completely different from a constant contact and shrinking in soul to prevent touching others in the metro where I was reared, but here things are more matter-of-fact in how the world really is. There is life and there is death. There are good animals and there are predators feeding on the weak and trusting. There are things that must be done for survival, because no one else will be around to help.
LC has not written much of it, but other kittens have disappeared besides the ones that satan and those of you brats murdered. Inquiry states that God Took them to protect them from things, which I fervently hope as there are no telltale bodies, blood, or fur patches anywhere to be found. So many hits are like a constant brand on the soul though, in so much murder and injury to the undeserving like the sole surviving kitten of the Holly, Jubal, and Panther-cat litter in Jack the orange tabby being clawed in the eye or some other satan-damned thing that he is healing from. Another unwelcome adventure as LC and I attempted to scatter sugar in his eye, since he has no patience like Jubal with the shots and bit LC till the blood came while scratching me as I was trying to hold him and keep his claws away from LC. (Apparently the paralyzing neck-hold only works so long as the cat consents to hold still.) Eventually we got sugar in there and thank God the eye came back open after sealing shut with no loss of eyesight, still is draining but at least he still has it.
During one of our nightly perambulations LC spotted a rock fragment. The outside was an ordinary grayish-white, and the inside was a glorious sparkling granite. LC picked it up, commenting how the rock had to be broken for us to see what God was doing on the inside.
I ponder why God allows His children to suffer, even to being broken and tried in a refinement process as gold is purified. He could just snap His fingers and we could become as He has planned us to be. He can do anything. And then I think of this verse and the thought occurs how maybe God does this not only for our benefit in growing us to become better for Him, but how He has appointed this as part of our Reward not only for His glory but for ours too.
For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them. Eph 2:10
In the midst of suffering, one has a choice: blame God or cling even more tightly to Him.
And so I cling, looking to the day when none of this is remembered ever again. I also look forward to being able to enjoy things without the tears.