Saturday Morning Rescue

I was up early.

A few Saturday mornings ago.

And I heard it before I saw it.

A cat.

Not mine.

I could tell by the cry.

But a cat, nevertheless.

My eyes scanned up into a tree.

And there he was.

Near the top.

Of course.

It had to be that tree.

The one inside our dog's fence.

Maybe twenty feet up.

With our dogs happily waiting below.

Oh, man!

How long have you been up there?

He didn't answer.

But, I guessed....... a while.

Long enough for the dogs to be completely bored with him now.

So.

I did what any self respecting, independent woman would do.

I woke up my husband.

For moral support.

I'm the early riser.

Him?

Not so much.

But this Saturday morning.

He responded.

Not happily mind you.

But he came through for me.

After securing the dogs on the screened in porch.

We determined our ladder was too short for the rescue job.

And no amount of sweet calling could lure the cat from his perch.

An hour went by.

We inquired if the local fire & rescue folks would help.

Mmmmmmm.     No.....was the answer on the non-emergency line.

We were on our own.

A very tall ladder was borrowed from a friend.

(Thank you, Greg.)

And about two hours after the initial sighting.

My sweet husband was finally at the top of the tree.

About to reach for the cat.

And a reasonable thing happened.

The cat, it seemed.

Did not want to leave the tree.

The cat.

Hung on with all it's might.

It clung tightly.

With every claw dug in.

It was like peeling off velcro.

For Scott to pull him from the tree.

And I couldn't help but think of myself long after the rescue was complete.

How often.....I'm like the cat.

What's best for me is to turn loose and let go.

But I don't.

I cling to what's familiar.

What I've come to know.

And I fear the change that often comes.

When my Father is ready for me to move on.

Or change what's more comfortable.

What's familiar and safe.

I've been reading through the book of Acts.

About the early missionaries in the church.

They must have been discouraged at times.

When setbacks and opposition came their way.

But thankfully.

They persevered.

And something in my study notes struck a cord.

"Obedience to God often means giving up what makes us feel secure."

Yep.

That cat.

Not so different than me.

A little too much in common.

What am I clinging to?

When God's clearly wanting me.

To come down out of the tree?

And turn loose of what's familiar.

And just let go.

Into the safety.

And guidance.

Of His waiting arms.