This is Ginger. Ginger is a cat – a very weird cat. When we found Ginger, she was a severely dehydrated and starving kitten on the verge of death. Today, she is a slightly overweight ball of fur that loves chasing flies around the house, even though she’s horrible at it; and who gets along with me only when she’s hungry.
But I’m not really here to talk about Ginger. I’m here to tell you about the way she’s taken care of, which I sometimes find absolutely ridiculous.
Not being cat-crazy myself, I don’t really know how people normally take care of their cats. At my house, however, Ginger is treated like she’s the breadwinner.
Everytime this creature makes the tiniest noise, my sister darts to the kitchen, asking her if she’d prefer wet food or dry food (I have no idea what these things are).
She’s not fed fish or rice or milk like the cats in the cartoons we grew up with, but instead is given some really overpriced biscuits that look like tiny little doughnuts made of gold.
Oh, and did I mention she doesn’t deign to come to the food? The food is brought to her instead. That’s right! Her majesty sits in her spot mewing till the food is brought to her. And did I mention that everytime she’s fed, her bowl is thoroughly washed, and dried perfectly? Or should I say purr-fectly?
Okay, ignore that!
If one day, Ginger decides to take a break from eating and skip a meal, my sister and mother get worked up and she’s immediately rushed to the vet, whose then has to decide whether to diagnose the cat or the family.
Ginger owns at least ten toys, including two noisy wands with bells on their ends, three scratch pads, a tunnel made of noisy paper and a stuffed rat laced with catnip.
The sofa in our house is covered with pillows. The cushions of the sofa have been kept invisible since the day it arrived– hidden from Ginger, so that she doesn’t scratch them instead of her toys. Yes, that’s specifically what the pillows were bought for.
I kid you not when I say family trips are planned only after careful consideration of Ginger’s mood.
This cat is so spoilt and pampered, it makes no sense to me at all. She’s simply a loaf of fur running around, stumbling, that doesn’t deserve the kind of attention or care she’s getting. I mean, sure, we can give her regular food, not buy her expensive toys, and reduce the amount of money spent on her.
It makes no sense at all… until I remember how much has been poured onto me by my Heavenly Father. How lavishly He has given me things I have not deserved. Surely, He didn’t have to give me in abundance. Surely, He could have given me just enough to survive and be done with it.
But He chose to give me grace upon grace, undeserved blessings over and over again.
It makes no sense to me, and maybe it doesn’t need to. As AW Tozer beautifully put it, “have you yet learned that love is not a thing of reason? Love tries to be reasonable but it seldom succeeds. There is a sweet wisdom in love that is above reason – it rises above it and goes far beyond it.”
He loves me, just as He loves you. And the way He loves is ridiculous. It makes no sense; and yet He does it, because that is who He is – that is what love is.