Friday, October 3, 2014

The Cat that Could...

Friday, October 3, 2014
Immediately after this, Jesus insisted that his disciples get back into the boat and cross to the other side of the lake, while he sent the people home.  After sending them home, he went up into the hills by himself to pray.  Night fell while he was there alone.  Meanwhile, the disciples were in trouble far away from land, for a strong wind had risen, and they were fighting heavy waves.  About three o’clock in the morning Jesus came toward them, walking on the water.  When the disciples saw him walking on the water, they were terrified.  In their fear, they cried out, “It’s a ghost!”  But Jesus spoke to them at once.  “Don’t be afraid,” he said.  “Take courage. I am here!”  
Matthew 14:22-27(NLT)
There are so many versions of why Jesus probably didn’t walk on water.  The one I like best is where the theologians presume the disciples were disoriented in the storm and had drifted near to shore.  Seeing Jesus walking on the dry land through the early morning mist, it merely looked like he was standing on the water. 

One of the problems of thinking too deeply through a miracle is when you think so deep you slide past common sense.  If Jesus was actually at the shoreline, perhaps only a step or two into the water, and only appearing to walk on top of the water’s surface, why do you suppose when Peter attempted to walk to Jesus he sank up to his neck? 

Hmmmmm; did the early morning mist only make it appear that Peter was drowning?  Didn't seem that way to Peter; LORD...HELP ME, I'M DROWNING HERE!

Actually, I have seen that walking on water thing up close.

It’s been 45 years, but my memory is pretty good at this point.  We were fresh out of the Army and living in a three room apartment.  We had two cats; one was Petunia, a tabby, the other was a male we had named Gigi, because the lady at the Kentucky Humane Society where we got the little fella had guaranteed us he was a female. 

(Notes to selfNever trust a cat expert; never, ever name your cat before you take him to the vet to have her spayed and bring home a neutered angry boy!).

But I digress.  

The two cats were pretty sedentary during the daylight hours.  The angry neutered boy, Gigi, slept a lot of the time in the bathroom sink.  (Don’t ask me why…he just did).  Elizabeth and I both worked, so they had the run of the apartment during the day.  But they didn’t do much running until about 11:30 at night.   To get their exercise in that small apartment, the bathroom, living room, and bedroom served as their gym.

About the time we would be getting ready for bed, the felines would crank-up their workout routine.  A brief sparring (two de-clawed cats can only spar; they cannot fight in earnest) was followed by one chasing the other into the living room, scrambling past the entryway tile floor, into the bedroom, and finally racing through the bathroom – which included a jump into the bathtub, up to the sink, bouncing off the commode tank and repeat the circuit, repeat the circuit, repeat the circuit….you get the idea.  It lasted at least 30 minutes, ending somewhere around the stroke of midnight.  Lights off or on made no difference; bathtub…sink…commode bounce, and start over again. 

I might add it was quite exciting when you’d fallen asleep and the cat-kids decided to do another rep on their routine; the trip through the bedroom always included clawing their way over the bed and any of the bed’s unsuspecting sleeping occupants. 

(Another note to selfIf I ever get another cat de-clawed, make sure they take out the hind leg claws too – that way when they jump on me at midnight it will not include de-fleshing the sensitive skin on my back as felines moving at light speed use me for a traction pad!).

One night before the exercise routine had started we got home late.  Elizabeth filled the tub for her bath and went to the kitchen for something.  Hearing the sound of their food being opened stirred something primal in the felines; the exercise game was ON!  It began well…living room….entry way….bedroom (knocking over a lamp I think), then the bathroom. 

Well, you probably know where this is headed. 

The leap into a bathtub full of steamy Elizabeth bathwater had never been part of the workout before – Gigi and Petunia were NOT about to start now; cats and water don’t mix well.  I watched as two very athletically-agile miracle workers walked – nay…it was more like skimming at light speed – across the pond in our bathroom. 

The two feline night terrorists never stirred the surface of the water; not even a drop on the hairs of their toes!  Walking on water?  Documented miracle!  Saw it myself!


Now, you KNOW this little story has absolutely nothing to do with Jesus walking on water; I just love remembering the story.  And I’m glad you listened-in as I had fun remembering.

But the account of Jesus walking on the water isn’t about fun (unless God was smiling as he got inside Peter and the other disciples’ heads – again!). 

But really, the account is all about faith.  In the end, if you believe God created the universe and gave YOU breath, and died for your sins…what trouble would you have knowing in your heart that he could walk on a little of that water he created?

For You, Today

Let your faith be strong; you walk on the water a little.  
Let the storms cease!

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