Homeward Bound

We really thought he was gone for good this time; we tried to rationalize when we thought something dire had happened to him that "at least we didn't have the pain of putting him down." We fantasized that he had wondered off as a regal and elder beast to join the great cat heaven in the sky.

Stuart, my husband, had been not only hurt but miffed at his cat for wandering away. Stuart had built Ceasar a luxurious cat house on the perch outside our kitchen window: how many cats have their own cat house? So he had been thinking Ceasar didn't deserve his home if he was prone to wander off like that. But now, with the broken leg, Stuart's miffed-ness turned to sympathy, such as wondering how long Ceasar had suffered in pain, how hungry he must have gotten, and how had he ever made it home.

Reminds me of the Mike Yaconelli story where he talks about cows getting out on back roads and how in the community where he lived, if you hit a cow, you had to pay for it because it is your fault for not seeing it, not the cow's fault. So Yaconelli asked a farmer friend why the cows get out so much and the farmer replied, "Well, they're all kinda sitting there in the big feed pasture and they see a little green tuft of grass and they go over and start nibbling on it. Then they see another tuft of grass over there and they walk over and they start nibbling on that one. They see another one right by the fence and they go and nibble on that one. And then they see one on the other side of the fence and they kinda push their head through the fence and the next thing you know, they've nibbled their way to lostness."

I suspect it was that way for Ceasar, too. He might have gone down in the yard chasing a bird, then to the edge of the garden, then to the woods behind the garden seeing another bird or squirrel or cat. I doubt he intended to run away or end up lost and with a broken leg. It happened gradually, like us when we stray away from the people, home or morals we were brought up with. We stop going to church. We see something that looks inviting, fun to do, see or be. We flirt a little. We tell a little lie. We wear more provocative clothing. We fudge on taxes. Or we wander away from the goals we've set for career or parenting, and get distracted by the latest thing.

But someone, at least God, is always waiting to take us home, take us back.

As the husband put it in the Robert Frost poem, "Death of the Hired Man" when the hired man comes back "home" to die: "Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take in." And the wife countered, "I should have called it something you somehow haven't to deserve." God's mercy is such that we are welcome back home whether or not we deserve it. As the parable of the "prodigal son" teaches us in the Bible, God is always willing to take us back: "While the son was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion and ran to him, threw his arms around him and kissed him" (Luke 15:20). What a picture of God's love, mercy and acceptance.

Even if we have wandered off for a spell, even if we have fallen or gotten trapped and broken a limb or too, God is waiting and wanting to welcome us back when we "nibble our way to lostness."

If you're interested, there is more information about:
The most important event of all time and
The most important Book of all time.

email this message to a friend   |   DW Home

Contributed by Melodie Davis from her weekly columnANOTHER WAY (http://www.thirdway.com/aw/).For information on using Another Way in a local newspaper, contact:ANOTHER WAY, 1251 Virginia Ave., Harrisonburg, VA 22801-2497; or call1-800-999-3534; fax at 540-434-5556; or email me at:Melodie@mennomedia.org