We hear inspiring stories of children’s answered prayers but how often do we hear stories about moms’ answered prayers? Do we actually believe God cares about and will answer our little prayers as much as He cares about an innocent child’s?
Let me tell you about my answered prayer.
Ever since the day we picked up three not-so-tame little kittens and brought them home sometime last summer I’ve had an ongoing battle with faith and trust in the area of God’s keeping watch over my daughter’s pets.
See these aren’t just any cats. They’re MY daughter’s precious pets!
So it goes without saying that God will be looking after them, doesn’t it? Or does it?
Last fall – almost one year ago, in fact – Coconut, the most-favorite-of-all black-and-white kitty, went for a ride on our vehicle unknown to us. He fell off and was badly hurt but we didn’t find him until several hours later. We brought the poor kitty to the vet clinic thirty-five minutes away and after business hours. Not much could be done for our kitty so we paid the hefty euthanasia bill and went home with some sad little children.
This spring, Fufu, one of our two remaining cats and the then-favorite, suddenly disappeared. Just like that. One morning I noticed he wasn’t around. After hours of hoping he’d come home stretched into days and then weeks, we pretty much gave up hope that he’d ever return. Many prayers were offered up for his safe return and I kept looking outside, feeling sure that God would answer such faith-filled childish prayers and such fervent mama prayers!
Yet my hopes were in vain. No Fufu appeared. Marshmallow, our sole remaining cat, seemed to keenly feel the loss, right along with the rest of us.
For Miss M’s fifth birthday, we made a trip to pick up two little white kittens, soon aptly named Big Foot and Little Foot as per the size of their feet. (Big Foot literally has two extra toes on each foot.) These two kitties have spent hour after hour wrapped in blankets, being rocked to sleep and held lovingly by my two chilluns on many a morning, afternoon and evening. Like Coconut, Fufu and Marshmallow before them, they have been the best of pets – and cheapest entertainment I sometimes say – that one could hope for!
Well, today we thought we’d lost all our cats for good. How was I going to explain that to my little people?
It began like this: since last night was a particularly gorgeous evening and and I was home alone with the children, I decided to take them on a bike ride down the road to the swamp a half mile from our place. They love coasting down the hill, throwing rocks in the water, and discovering all kinds of things along the way. Getting out of the way quick when our big dog, Kenya, comes rushing out of the water is a game they enjoy along with seeing how far a stick will float or how far they can throw a stone.
Often on excursions like these our pets will come along for the ride – or fun, in this case. If you’d have driven by last night on this quiet country road, you’d have seen a long ragtag band traveling along: me, Mr. H, Miss M, one black dog and three white kitties.
Once we reached the swamp at the bottom of the hill, we looked around for a while and then headed back home. I noticed that the cats all stayed near the water, romping in the tall grass by the side of the road. I was sure they’d come back soon and didn’t give them much further thought.
But when late evening came and they still weren’t home, I began to wonder. Morning came and still no cats. Noon came and went. Prayers were prayed. After calling and calling her kitties, Miss M sadly announced that they must be out hunting. By then I was afraid worse things had happened but I didn’t say so.
Suppertime came; Kev and I feared the worst. We ate sloppy joes and baked beans around the fireplace among our trees. We were just biting into our s’mores when I heard a distinct “meow” coming from the direction of the house. Kev quickly hurried over there and returned with Marshie, our “senior” cat but there was still no sign of the two kittens. Worried what Marshie’s solitary return might mean, I prayed yet again that they’d show up. This poor mama heart couldn’t bear to explain the loss of more cherished pets to my children.
Kev and I never said a word about our concern to the children and were amazed but thankful that they hadn’t seemed to notice how long the cats had been gone. Occasionally they’d be gone for a short time but never for 24 hours – or even 2 at a time.
As soon as we were finished supper, I decided to retrace our walk to the swamp. I called the kittens often as I walked, hoping but not really expecting to see them. It had been so long already. They could be anywhere. Coyotes, owls, hawks or other predators could easily have found them by now. Or they might have run far into a field or down the road.
As I neared the bottom of the hill, I called again. There was a rustle in the grass, and just like that – a white kitten appeared! After some more calling, the second cat appeared too! They looked quite content and a bit sleepy; I suspect they quite enjoyed feasting on mice and exploring in the tall grasses.
And I knew: yes, God cares and answers the “little” prayers of parents, too. Nothing is too small or insignificant for him. No, he won’t always choose to answer every prayer in the affirmative (would our cats live to be 100 if he did?!) but he delights in blessing his children, that much I know!
Just as we long to show our children how much we love them and delight in them, our Heavenly Father delights in blessing us, His children. His blessings don’t always come in the form I think I want or need but I’m reminded again today that He truly cares about the simplest and smallest parts of my day.
Now it’s your turn; how do you know God cares about the little stuff in your day?