True strength is found in gentleness

"the kindness of God"

Romans 2:4 

I've been visiting my sister and her husband for a few days; staying at their house.  They've got a new cat since I was here last.  A sweet, gentle little Russian Blue.

"hi!"

She's very friendly, but cautiously so.  There were a lot of people here for a couple of days, so she spent most of the time under a bed.

But yesterday evening my nieces and one of my nephews left, and this morning my sister and her family (including my energetic 7-year-old nephew) left to go home.  That left just 5 of us, all adults.  So the kitty has been venturing out more today.

So I sat on the floor of the room this morning, waiting, and sure enough, her curiosity brought her near me.  I sat very still, reading, while she padded slowly in the room, and warily came over to me.  She sniffed my slippers a little, and then came close enough for me to pet her.  But I had to move slowly, too.  If I moved too fast, she would turn and run several feet away, and then watch me again.

Then later, everyone left the house but me, so I went out on the front porch to enjoy the weather here in the 41st parallel.  I left the front door open so kitty could see me, and I could see her.  Soon enough, she came and sat in the doorway, sniffing and looking around.

in her "happy place"...

But I knew she wasn't allowed outside, so I had to keep an eye on her.   And anytime she tentatively reached one paw out the door, I would wave my book at her, to frighten her a little, and make her back up into the house where she belonged. 

And I got to thinking about how different I am from a cat.  I have a lot more strength, and a lot more intelligence.  I'm a lot bigger, and so in order to win her trust, I have to pull back on my abilities.  I couldn't get up and tower over her.  I shouldn't run after her and try to grab her.  I might succeed, but it will slow down the progress of her trusting me.   And I could talk to her, but it had to be softly and gently, not with all the volume I could muster.  We had to form our relationship on her terms.

yawning... Cats do a lot of that

But when I was outside, I needed to scare her a little.  Going outside wasn't safe for her, so to do what was best for her, I needed to remind her that I am bigger and stronger.

Sound like God to you?  It does to me.  Sometimes when I get a glimpse of how awesome and mighty He is, I think if we really knew the depth of His power, it would scare us too much.  So He pulls back to meet us on our terms.

But when He sees His children wandering into a place that's unsafe them, He unleashes a little of His power, to try and stop us.  But even that is nothing compared to what He's capable of.  Strength, wisdom and power beyond ~ literally beyond ~ our comprehension.  And He already knows.  He doesn't need to brag, and He doesn't need to prove Himself.

And He wants a relationship with us.  So He shows us His compassion, His mercy, and His gentleness.   

And that, for many of us, is what drew us to Him, and keeps us near Him.

I have no explanation for this ~ it simply leaves me speechless...

~ "the kindness of God

        leads you to repentance" ~

Romans 2:4

This just in: Love means having to say you're sorry

"while we were enemies"

Romans 5:10

In one of the Shrek movies, there's a scene where Puss in Boots is compelled to apologize.  He holds his hat in his hand, looks down and says remorsefully, "I'm ashamed."  My kids do this sometimes when I'm scolding them, and it cracks me up and makes my mad go away.

Well recently, I found myself in the position of Puss in Boots.   I was having a stressful day ~ too much to do and not enough time.   I had to go out that evening, and I was trying to get ready, but also get things done that I had to take with me. I was mad at myself for putting off doing those things, but when I thought about it, my weekend had been such that I really hadn't had a chance before that evening anyway.

So there I was, running around printing things, packing my tote bag, and packing the car with what I had to bring ~ and my wonderful family dropped what they were doing to help me.  My Hubby ~ the Apple of my Eye ~ had a deadline of his own, for a Bible study class he teaches; and my Awesome Girl had a deadline of her own, for a class she's taking.   But they, and my Amazing Boy were doing things for me so I could leave on time.

In a hurry, I reached up to get something out of the cupboard, and I dropped a glass, breaking it.  And would you believe, I blamed the Apple of my Eye?!  "How could you put this here!  What were you thinking?!"  At which point my Awesome Girl spoke up, "I put it there.  I'm sorry, I thought that's where we kept it."  And I responded sharply, "No, I stopped keeping it there months ago because I was afraid it would get knocked out of the cupboard!"

Well, of course a few minutes later my eyes were opened to the obvious, and I was apologizing profusely to both of them.  It was completely my fault.  I should have just moved it out of the way.  And they both graciously accepted my apology; they understood I was just stressed out right then.

But here's the thing ~ even though I had apologized, and they had accepted, I didn't feel any better.  I still felt bad for how I'd treated them when they were in the midst of helping me.  And I wondered why that guilty feeling just wouldn't go away.

And then I thought about Jesus.    Today's verse, in Romans, says that while we were yet His enemies, God reconciled us to Him through the death of His Son.   He did something incredible for me ~ died on the cross to offer me the gift of eternal life ~ before I was even born, and even after I was born, it was years before I thanked Him, and said "yes" to that gift.  And now?  Having accepted that gift of salvation, I go for days and weeks without even thinking about His sacrifice, much less thanking Him for it.  Where is that guilty feeling?  Where is my remorse?  My shame?

What He did, He did for each of us.  If I were the only person on earth, He still would have died for me. Because even if I were the only person on earth, He still would have had to.   Not enough remorse means not enough appreciation.  And of that, I'm ashamed.