Linking up with my favorite people today!!
It’s Five Minute Friiiiiiiiiiiday!!!!
Ok, the so obvious route to go here would be the plague-sickness that had descended on our family since what feels like Christmas. The weakness, you know. Wee tired cherubs, and one taller version (the husband) weakly asking for juice and popsicles and Tylenol all around.
But for some reason I am tired of writing about… being tired.
So, instead, I am going to write about my cat, Steve.
Steve is a large. Like, if he was a car, Steve would have passed comfortable mid-sized sedan a long time ago. Steve is a Hummer. With fur.
In the morning, when I head downstairs to some coffee and quiet, I hear Steve get up. What I mean by this is: He is upstairs and I CAN HEAR HIM WALKING DOWN THE HALL.
This is no delicate flower, this cat.
But, there is something about Steve that is a bit… lacking in natural cat-ness.
He can’t purr.
Somehow, Steve totally missed the bus on the purring thing. He emits this sad whispy sort of wheeze, instead of a purr, when he is petted (which is often). It makes me feel like I should offer him an inhaler, or at least some Vicks Vapo Rub or something.
Here he is, the king of the house cats, but when he purrs he just loses all credibility. He sounds like a squeaky toy.
Ok, so my point here…
What looks strong can sometimes have a really weak end game.
But also this: weakness is SO not the point. It’s what we DO with the weakness that matters. Steve does not seem to care two claws about his death-rattle purr thing. He still struts around like he owns all the kibble in this house. Also, he lives his life like this:
Steve is a cat of love.
He is giving his human a hug in this picture. I mean, just look at him. His whole body is purring. Pathetically, but you know.
I think I have a pathetic purr too, in many areas of my life. Like, my wimpy attempts at keeping the house clean. And my parenting skills after 8:30 at night. Or my battle with my squishy tummy.
That sort of thing.
We don’t honor weakness.We should. We get to give it to God, after all. He WANTS the weakness. And anything that He wants, I am more than happy to give.
If he wants our weakness, he must want us. We are pretty weak on some days. It’s ok.
At least you don’t sound like a squeaky toy when you purr. That’s just silly.