“See the manner of love God has given us just so we might be called children of God, and because of it the world doesn’t know us, because it doesn’t know the Holy One” (1 John 3.1).
This Sunday past, we had to say goodbye to our little Princess Penny. We don’t know exactly how old she was; because, she came to us already a grown kitty. But she lived with us for nine-and-a-half years. Years that blessed us with her love.
We were still new in this house when this grey and white cat began showing up to eat the food we left out. It took a while before she would stay near when we were out. Leanne would sit on the back steps and pet her head—the only place for the longest she would let us touch her. But, on a rainy Saturday in July, we looked out to see her sitting under our fire pit, and we opened the door to invite her inside. She was with us from then until we said goodbye.
Our boys (King Shasta and Prince Corin) who went onto that world beyond this one less than two years ago were royal; so, Penny was as well. She was our Princess, a warm and snuggly one. She slept, most nights, curled up next to Leanne. Her little body seemed to drink in warmth and then exude it; so, she was like the softest heating pad you could imagine. One that purred deep and loud.
The verse above was one I was going to use during the devotionals for Lent. Reading it on the morning after her passing, I couldn’t help but think of her. That encouragement to “see what manner of love” we’ve been given spoke to me. We, indeed, were given a manner of love that is unique in this world. A love that came to us and looked only for an invitation to enter into our lives. A love that walked on dainty paws.
And in reading those words, I find what an amazing trick John is performing. It’s not about specifics, about events and moments we can point to. It’s about the way. Look, he tells us, at how we are loved, not in moments but in the each and every day. In the minutes and seconds that fill up the time between sunrise and sunset, waking and bedtime.
Because, I see that what Penny brought to our lives was not about specific acts, but her way of being. That there was no doubt when you looked down at her lying next to you, or saw those eyes across the room that there was love.
That love is now with us in memory and spirit. We join again the long wait of millions of hearts that look toward the moment when all is made new and goodbyes are no more. But her love is with us, leaving us to contemplate its manner and how it filled our lives and our home. How like the love of God, it is unexplainable. Like that love, it changes those who experience it. Helping me, I hope, to walk in her manner in this world.
We love you, sweet Princess Penny. We miss you terribly. Thank you for coming into our life.
Creator of creatures great and small, thank you for the love of the fuzzy and furry ones in our lives. Heal the sick ones. Lead home the lost ones. Help us to be present with those on our laps and at our sides. Comfort those who mourn the ones they see no more. And speed the day when, in a place no night falls, we will all be together again.
So sorry for your loss. This is all too familiar with our family. We also long for the day of no goodbyes.
Betty your words are very comforting to us! Thanks for your support (in more ways than one), and for the love you have for your own furry family.
Thank you.