O God, you are my God, for you I long
for you my soul is thirsting.
My body pines for you in the sanctuary
to see your strength and your glory.
Psalm 62: 1-3
Susie and I sit comfortably in our warm living room this morning. I’m sipping coffee with her curled C-shaped alongside my aging, cushioned hip. Despite a bustle of ubiquitous urban activity outside–the churning of a garbage truck compactor, a distant siren, a disgruntled horn–the both of us find reflection time and enough focus to ignore distraction.
I observed early on that Susie’s and Delia’s day relied on reflection, those deceptive cat nap times when activity ceased. The time between awake and asleep. Eyes half closed. Minds open only to the moments of the day. A cat’s liturgy of the hours. Their own Lauds, Matins and Vespers.
I’ve noticed the same with our block’s outside cats–and we do have a clowder. They forage for food in garbage cans and where they can. They find window planters to sun, and stoops to nap. I often wonder if not to give thanks and praise.
On our block, those cats are blessed. Everyone seems to leave a can or two of food in the empty lot where they live. We are as thankful for their hunting skills in our city landscape as they are for their human neighbors.
On our block, we’re all blessed. Susie. Delia. And me. We all find comfort in the Lord’s bounty whether great or small. We all see God’s creation in each other when we remember to take the time to stop and find a stoop to sun ourselves today. Guaranteed gratitude. Bountiful blessings.
