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THE CAT AND HER CREATOR

The cat comes in from a hard night’s hunt.

Eats her food, and milk in her cup.

Pads and packs her little nest.

Settles down for a long days’ rest.

Eyes closed, instant sleep.

Every muscle relaxed bone deep.

Little pink toes still red from the miles.

From trudging along in her hunting trials.

Thin little body that burns up her food,

Each night, doing what she was created to do.

Past scars galore on her little body,

Tail tip gone by the neighbor’s puppy.

An ear slit here, gash by her eye,

But, not a care in the world as asleep she lies.

What is she thinking, as she lies on the blanket?

Is she planning tomorrow, is she nervous about it?

Is she thinking she should have, would have, or not?

Is she wondering about this, is she sorry she fought?

Is she proud of that mouse, that bird that she caught?

No, she was just doing what her Master has taught.

He was guiding her through the work of this night,

With all of His Magnificent Might.

Just as He knows, and will guide the sparrow.

On her flight above the cat tomorrow.

Instinct we call it, and justly so,

But He put it in, and He keeps it, we know.

How dare we, as the children He loves,

Receiving the Grace of Our Father Above,

Be anxious, and fretful, discouraged, and proud,

When all of His creatures know His love that abounds.

He guides them, truly, but how much more

Does He hold us dear, who have been saved to soar

And rest in His arms for eternity

In the Love He reserves for those Redeemed.

Praise to the Creator, to God Almighty and Son,

Our Saviour and Lord, in Him we are one!

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