Rescuing a kitten has made me feel like a horrible person.

I totally intended to have animals...a dog or a cat...just not yet.  Not yet when I found this little ball of fur burning up in the summer sun, confused and turning itself in circles.

When I rescued her, I placed her in a box and she didn't move for hours.  Once I got her home, I could set her on the couch and she would still be in the exact spot when I returned.

Once she calmed down enough to start eating and drinking, she was still just a small, cuddly furball who was beyond cute sucking on the bottle I fed her from.  I thought to myself how lucky was I to find a little kitten who was so sweet and calm and loving.

Turns out, once she got up her strength and became comfortable in her surroundings, she turned into a kamikaze biting terror.  She's broken a lamp, slashed the shade, knocked over trashcans, knocked down artwork, chewed on any possible cord she can find (and there's a lot of them) and plays an early morning version of kamikaze relay face-bombing.  I know, I know - that's all kittens, it's what they do.  It's a phase.

But it doesn't feel like one today.  Not when this afternoon when I was sorely tempted to throw her out of the room, not when I hid from her in another room for 20 minutes.  Not when earlier in the day I met two truly calm and sweet kittens up for adoption and I couldn't help but wish I had met them first.  That my kitten was wasn't my kitten.

I can't count how many times I've let my frustration turn to anger.  Where I just don't know what to do with her.

I've spent the last two months with this kitten - feeding, taking care of her, giving her love and cuddles and playtime.  Yet today, my thoughts were of giving her away.  And I feel like a horrible person because when I think of giving her away, I think that I'd miss her, but I would be ok.  Better, even.  To today's musings, a friend asked, but haven't you bonded with her?

Even now, she sits outside the door and chirps sadly, knowing I'm in here and wanting to be as well.  What does that say about me, as a person?  Me, who is a self-proclaimed animal lover with a soft heart.  Pushed to the breaking point not by the horrible things I've been through or the abuse or the obstacles, but by 2 months with a 3 month old kitten.

Disconnected

Drowning, needing to pour out, but barely dripping drop by drop

Years of suppression, shame keeps flooding nonstop

Unwilling to reconnect that part of me that feels for me

Scared of the shock that comes when current and conductor collide

Uncertain that the pain could be endured with walls so exposed

Each time the reserve is tapped, the breaker trips - arresting the flow

Diagnostics required for any chance for restoration

The output and wall plug, both are secure

The power brick, where the current is altered for use

Lays disconnected, corroded from disuse

Since the system only works when in favor of others

Reawaken the connection - first see myself as another

Weighted

Experience that can’t be undone; can’t deny, can’t pretend

Innocence lost – I willed myself to forget

Disconnect, dissociate

Suppress the feeling - separate from what induced the pain

Now safe from the contractions – they deliver no tears

Illusory sense of security

While shame rages unrestrained underneath

Weighing on every thought – shattering how I see me

More and more weight to cushion the blows

Weight of the blame, weight of the sin, weight of the shame

Surface thriving; underneath barely surviving

God has washed me clean; can’t seem to live like I see

I’m sitting on the sideline, unable to run the race He marked for me

Needing to pour out, but barely dripping drop by drop

My heart is flooded; unwilling to reconnect the part of me that feels for me

Keep It Moving

Movement is so much more exciting than being still.  Sounds straight forward, I know.  But let me try to explain.  We often don't even know we've stopped moving, save for the discontentment in our hearts.  If we take a moment, ask ourselves: what is my heart's desire?  What do I hope for, what do I yearn for in life?  Then ask yourself if those things are currently being fulfilled. 

I think that most people naturally avoid change, preferring to remain with things as they are.  But in this, we are cutting ourselves short. Movement brings excitement and purpose and passion and an eager heart.  Following His lead, life comes to life.  If I could explain it better, I would.  I pray that we all find it one day.

relying on the unreliable

Just for once I wish it was me.

How much more self-defeating can one get?  Wishing to be anyone else except yourself is an invitation for insecurity, for self-doubt, for judgement, for pain, for tears.  Yet undeniably, it resurfaces from time to time.  I think it until I break.  And it is upon breaking that we can learn.  But it seems the choice most often made is not to.

When all goes smoothly, there is nothing to learn.  It is through damage that strength can be found.  At war within, constantly searching out what can't be grasped, trying to find something good that will last.  But happy doesn't last; it's not meant to.  Why seek out the happy when you can have inner joy.  Happiness skims the surface - it is shallow and fleeting and fickle - but joy doesn't have to be taken away.  Haven't we all heard that saying "count it all joy"?  Sounds simple, but the truth of it is hard to grasp.  To count all those emotions, even those that hurt, as joy is counter-intuitive.

We rely so heavily on our emotions - emotions that show themselves over and over again to be unreliable.  Here and gone in an instant - leaving us bereft with lingering doubt, lingering guilt, lingering regret.  Feeling abandoned by something that was never ours to keep.  And the more we fight to get it back, the deeper we seem to sink.

Strength is sought, yet we continue to rely on the unreliable to get us there.  Isn't that the definition of insanity?  I guess it is fitting, as the word itself is thrown around so easily these days.  If a person steps out of the comfort zone, they are called crazy.  But then, we weren't meant to stay sane in the eyes of this world.

2011

Hello to 2011. I read this great quote today on Facebook that I love:

"Today is a time to reflect on the years that have passed, not to necessarily create a new you but to renew a right spirit within you. Take time to give praise."

And truly, that is what I need to do - give all praise for all the unending blessings in my life. Even those trials I have faced and am still facing, I have been reminding myself count it all joy.

Random musings...

Aren't we all damaged goods? We have this free will, which can possibly lead us to make bad decisions or to put our trust in others who make bad decisions. The consequences of these decisions color us, tattoo us, shape and mold us. We build on it or let it drag us down. We can prove it wrong or let it define us. Is it considered damage if it betters us in the end, these wrong turns? When is the proper time to decide a decision's the wrong one? Can you make that determination a month later, a year, fifty years? Really, can any decision be the wrong one when every one of them has made you into the person that you are?

Will I ever stop asking questions?