I could tell this morning that Biscuit, the cat that won't eat, was not doing well. I told the kids that he was very sick and probably would die. T.S. and Tryce colored pictures for him. Every time they'd go through the kitchen they'd announce that his "fur was still moving." At lunch we had a wonderful conversation about Biscuit going to live with Cowboy (Tryce's Dad's dog) and that Cowboy and Biscuit would have lots of fun playing. T.S. said, "Maybe he will come back to life and play with us." To which I replied, "No, we have to let him go live with God."
I hate days like this because they are days of my own making. I'm the one that agrees to feeding cottontail bunnies. I'm the one that started feeding the 4 orphan kittens. Biscuit has never been interested in eating the solid food. He politely refused to drink from the saucer. He would spit out the softened cat food when I put it in his mouth. He was content to stay on the bottle. I was determined it was time to be weaned. So now, I feel a little guilty--I could have bought more kitten milk and kept bottle feeding him. But would that have benefited him in the long run?
I realized we are all sometimes like Biscuit. Sometimes we want to be bottle-fed. We don't want to switch over to the solid food. There are several references in the New Testament that use the analogy of switching from milk to solid food and growing in our spiritual life. We don't do ourselves any favors by taking the easy way. As parents we sometimes have to watch our kids struggle as they grow and mature. No one said life or parenting was easy, even if you're a mama cat.
Sometimes I just don't like life lessons...wouldn't it be nice if they were all sunshine and roses?
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