India is her name, but we call her
Indigo or Indie or sometimes even Indiglo.
A pretty calico cat with vivid black,
white, and orange striped patches; she's striking in appearance.
Sweet beyond words. Not the typical
“catty” personality, she always comes when called, talks (meows)
constantly as if she understands us and we understand her. She's a
dear. She overflows with gentle-kindness everyday. When days are
hard, Indiglo is a great furry-friend to talk it over with.
But last October Indigo was wounded.
Perhaps it's more fair to say she was likely attacked. No one saw it.
Steve, Peter, and I were away at missionary training in Colorado when
it happened. Maggie found her on our back lawn lethargic, and
bleeding from one ear. She would open her mouth to meow her precious
greeting, but nothing would come out. She lay for several days.
Maggie and Mike loved on her, doctored her up as best they could, and
from Colorado Springs I fervently asked God if i could please still
keep her.
We never knew for sure what happened to
Indiglo, but we had a pretty good idea. From the marks left on her,
we were certain another cat had been cruel to her.
She has fully recovered now – we are
a family most grateful. She is loved by us all --- even the
non-cat-loving head of our house. But now, as a result of the serious
injury, Indie holds her head sideways, always. She hears fine, and
talks constantly again, but when she looks at us, her sweet head is
always crooked, cocked as if she is continually saying “hmmm??”.
The lady sat across from us on the rail
car traveling from Amsterdam to the airport. She was a sharp,
European type lady, we could tell she was an impressive person. She
folded up her nifty bike (full size bike folded 4 ways into something
small enough to carry in her arms), and sat quietly. We talked
lightly. We chatted about her life in Amsterdam and Rome. She owns
two homes. One near the Hague and one with her children in Rome. She
never mentioned a “mister”. When we had exhausted conversation
about her, she asked about us. We shared that we were headed to Kenya
to look for a house to rent and meet people we would be serving and
working with. She looked intrigued and inquired if we worked with an
NGO. We answered her question and lightly explained we felt called to
serve the people of Kenya by helping them understand God's plan for
marriage and how blessed a home can be if husband and wife follow
God's instructions found in His Word.
She paused ------
---- and cocked her head.
We paused -----
---- and I hoped the spark in her eye
was friendly “fire”.
She looked ready...
Intimidated, I held my smile. And then
God amazed me once again.
Right in front of my eyes, He brought
sweet Indigo's face, cocked to the side --------because something had
injured her --- almost killed her.
And as if a whisper came down from
Heaven I knew.
---- “Be gentle here daughter, even
if she is not. Remember dear Indie, i've taught you something
important through her. Indigo suffered, she was attacked and
brutalized, by something no one else even saw (much less understood).
You will meet many people who have been injured; sometimes wounded so
deeply a part of their heart may have died. They will look at you
with confused, almost addled eyes, because they can not mesh together
their pain with Truth. And if you try and force them --- they might
push back hard with a fury compatible to what they endured. So be
gentle always. Always. Be patient and kind and willing to be
rejected. It will be unresolved pain and deep scars that will be used
against them, to try and hold them in dark places rather than step
into the Light. But remember you are a carrier of My Light. And I
have chosen to send you to some dark places. So rejection or rage
----- they are Mine to address, you my daughter are called simply to
carry my Truth and walk in the Light.”
And as the tender message rolled
through my mind clear to my heart, I thanked God for the picture of
my sweet Indigo.
Sometimes people will make
light-hearted jokes about her cocked head and her confused look. But
I, I love her because I know the only reason she looks that way is
because she was wounded and survived. And even though she suffered,
she chooses to remain gentle and kind, she does not deliver
sufferable things to others. She teaches me.
Today on the train passing through
Amsterdam, God used Indigo --- my cat. And I went deeper into the
learning.
Abba never wastes a thing.
©2013 Donna Taylor/Reaching for the Robe
©2013 Donna Taylor/Reaching for the Robe