As I was working out in our basement this morning I was thinking about this same cat of ours. He had gotten locked in the basement on Sunday for at least a few hours. When we found him, he was lying on our ping pong table as content as could be...not worried, not stressing but simply relaxing. It was as if he was saying, "Hi guys. Hey, could you keep it down? I'm trying to take a nap."
This got me thinking about my post from last week. I was taken to a comment that was left by Michelle Corbett who said this:
I wonder if I could write a blog post about what I learn from my cat breaking absolutely everything valuable in my house (from spilling water on my laptop to busting the table and making a special lamp fall to the ground). Yesterday I came home to her standing in a pile of curtains she had pulled to the ground. Hmmmm. I'll have to think about this. ( :
I responded with a comment saying that I would find it hard to rejoice if that happened to me also. But this morning something was not sitting right with me about my response.
Paul wrote his words about "rejoicing always" while he was locked in a cold, grimy prison cell. I know he would have found a way to rejoice had his cat done this to his house, but how?
I came to the conclusion that Paul probably would have responded in this way:
"Oh, you darn cat! Oh well, I am so thankful I have a laptop that could have water spilled on it. I am so thankful to have curtains my cat can tear down. Thank you Lord for the house I have that I get to clean up!"
As tough as we might think this is to respond like this, when you really think about it, it's really only a matter of perspective.


