𝘉𝘺 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘚𝘦𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘯
My daughter just finished her anti-rabies vaccines this week. She was scratched by a “semi-stray cat.”
We have this mainstay stray cat at the house. We really don’t own him, but we feed him. He even acts like a pet in the house. Every night, he gets his food. Sometimes he gets scraps for snacks from the screen window—this was where he reached for my daughter’s finger when she was simply reaching for a condiment in the kitchen.
And because of that, I started observing him more closely (the doctor said to observe the cat for at least 14 days).
Every time I feed him, he lunges violently toward the food knocks everything to the ground. This cat has been around for more or less a year already, but he has not lost his “strayness.” Even when the food is already being served to him, he still grabs at it mid-air, as if making sure it’s really for him. He does not trust that I will complete the task that I do for him every single night.
Observing this cat makes me realize I am like him. I have not lost my “strayness.” In the same way that he cannot trust the hand that feeds him, I also struggle to trust the One who provides for me faithfully. God has been consistent, generous, and present—yet many times, I still worry, fear, scramble, and grab, as if His blessings are uncertain, as if I need to secure everything myself before someone else takes it away.
Maybe that’s what happens to beings to those who have gone through a long period of insecurity. The instinct to survive often remains.
But unlike the cat, I choose to trust.
To let go of the frantic grabbing.
To stop living as if God won’t finish what He started.
To receive—not with fear—but with gratitude and trust.
#GOTO #GodOfTheOrdinary #WFALoveconnects
Published: November 21, 2025