Abba never wastes a thing...

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