They're soft and sweet, occasionally stand-offish but never mean. We call one Tubby and one Mr. Baby and constantly put voices in their mouths. They play and wrestle and then bathe each other and sleep like yin and yang. I call Tubby my best friend and Baby my best baby. Tubby loves to lick Dad's head, and Baby is obsessed with running bath water. They like my dad the best, but they lovingly tolerate the rest of us.
I love those cats.
God is so gracious to us, isn't He? The sweetness of gentle and playful pets is a precious gift. Just like crunchy, colorful leaves and delicious food and board games and sports games and beautiful books. God is merciful to us in the little things. That's what I frequently forget. He is unfailingly, unflaggingly merciful. You can see it in the taken-for-granted and the ordinary. You can see it in the sky and smells and food and relationships. You can see it in the breath you're breathing right now, the sights you're staring at, the daylight that washes over you. Thank God for life.
And thank God for small mercies. Thank God for cats. Thank God for yogurt-covered raisins. Thank God for hair cuts. Thank God for tea. Thank God for computers. Thank God for music.
Small mercies. Daily mercies. Mercies that threaten to go unnoticed and melt into oblivion unless we pay attention for one minute and just thank God. So pay attention to those mercies. The safe drive to the grocery store. The good day at work. The sunshine and the snow. See them, and be grateful.