Graceline: Hit in the heart when Missy goes home

Some days are hopscotch kind of days. Other days are waiting to get nailed at dodgeball kind of days. Yesterday, I got nailed.

Six years ago, we heard incessant meowing and went out to investigate. Her right leg stuck straight out at a horrible angle. The tip of her right rear paw was raw and bleeding. Wanda picked her up and carried her inside.

We took her to the vet and $107 later discovered her injuries were not recent. The nerve damage afforded her freedom from pain. Missy became an Ashley that day.

I am highly allergic to cats. Papa knew Missy needed a home. Somehow, I was never allergic to Missy.

Papa had a lot to teach me with this hop-along black and white feline. Unlike a dog, Missy liked to be petted on her own terms. She would give you a minute or so before stiff-arming you and jumping out of your arms. She loved the attention, but she didn’t want you to know she loved it. She had to call the shots.

She was good at letting you know what she wanted. When she was hungry, she would meow you to death until you fed her. When she wanted to go outside, she would sit at the door and let you know it. When we would park the car in the driveway in the evening, she would come and roll over on her back for a little loving. She was a good cat.

She would bring mice and lay them on the doorstep. One day she brought a squirrel and laid it on the steps to the bonus room. When I came downstairs, I picked it up and put it in the trash. Missy was insulted. She took the squirrel out of the trash and placed on the front steps to make sure we didn’t overlook the gift.

Missy loved Gracie, our Havanese puppy. But like everyone else, she didn’t want her to know it. They would chase each other around the house until Missy would tire of such foolishness and pop Gracie in the nose.

Yesterday, another Sunday, I took Gracie out around 6:45 a.m. before church. Missy had been out all night. This morning, I couldn’t find her. I heard her moaning. She was sitting in woods behind the house with a strange stare on her face. I went to pick her up and she willingly allowed me. There were no external injuries. Once inside, she walked as if she were drunk. Then she just laid down, her breathing labored and shallow.

I yelled for Wanda as I called the vet. The doctor told us Missy had a hernia in her diaphragm, and her organs were crowding her lungs and heart. Coupled with her previous injury, there was little hope.

It was time for Missy to go home.

I have falsely believed having Jesus as my life negated the need for grief. But Jesus also grieved. He wept over Jerusalem and over the tomb of Lazarus. He grieves because we won’t trust Him enough to allow Him to give us the love we so desperately desire.

Proverbs 4:23 (AMP): “Keep and guard your heart with all vigilance and above all that you guard, for out of it flow the springs of life.”

Stuff happens. God means for us to take it all into our hearts, the good and the bad, process it, deal with it, rejoice over it if it’s good and grieve over it if it’s bad. If we fail to deal with the stuff properly, then it stacks up and puts pressure on our heart and soul.

When the doctor gave Missy her going home shot, her little head dropped, and the dam of my heart broke. I cried like I’ve not cried in a long time.

Missy and I are a lot alike. I didn’t realize it until I lost her. I, too, want God’s love on my own terms. I’m independent and cocky just like her. When I need Him, I’ll hound Him until He comes through for me, or get mad when He doesn’t. Then I’ll put Him on the shelf until next time. I desperately desire Him to show me how much He really loves me, but I don’t give Him much time to do it. I’m too busy trying to validate my own sense of self-worth by trying to “minister” to people in Jesus’ Name. I wish I acted more like a dog, but I have to admit, I’m a cat.

In spite of that, Jesus had a little talk with me that day. “Kenny, I sent Missy to you so that you could see things from My perspective. You are allergic to cats just like I am allergic to sin. But the allergy didn’t keep you from loving Missy anymore than sin keeps Me from loving you. You savored the time Missy gave you to love on her, and I savor the time you give Me to love on you. You knew Missy loved you even when she didn’t give you the time of day. I know you love Me and are trying hard to trust Me more each day. Both you and Missy have experienced a lot of pain and injury in this life, but Missy didn’t let it get her down. If you can love Missy the way you do, imagine how much I love you.”

I can only imagine, Lord. Take care of Missy for me, will you? And if you’ve got a little extra time, take care of me, too. Dodgeballs sure do sting, especially when they hit you in the heart.

This story was originally published May 16, 2016 at 12:00 PM with the headline "Graceline: Hit in the heart when Missy goes home."