And now, for a miracle that happened last week. And like all the miracles around here, they happen with such frequency as to become our normal. Every single aspect of this happy event has witnesses, as is required by the law of YHVH. The rule is two or more or you have nothing or you are to stay silent on the matter. Witnesses make all things real. Just be sure they are of good character and report, or they will betray the matter and lie later, as has happened to me too many times. If they have no truth in them, keep the matter to yourself.
Back to the story…
We have a cat named Tink, a rescue from 42 months ago, saved from death from a witch we knew who was going to kill her because she was an annoyance to look after–even though doing so, would break her son’s heart, who himself was very attached to the kitty. I asked to take her in, rather than her be killed by the so-called humane society here in the USA. She agreed, and we had our first cat since 2001. I did for the boy, the kitty and in spite of the fact that I had always been allergic to cats my whole life. Ironically, once Tink came, my allergies completely disappeared for her and any cat since…
|Tink with a broken tail, now fixed, yet another miracle.|
As is Tink’s way, she does yard and house patrol, dealing with varmints, snakes and malefactors. She is very good at her work and stays in the yard and never leaves it. Which is in itself quite a story. Three days after I brought her home, I walked the perimeter of the place, with her following, telling her this was the boundaries of the home. Son Matthew walked with me. In three and half years, she has never strayed beyond the set boundaries, which is amazing in itself with any outdoor/indoor cat, they say.
At sunset last week, she came in with a humming bird in her mouth, and as per usual, she dropped it in front of us. It was completely mangled, its feathers torn off, wings broken, and literal bloody pulp. “Tink, not the little angels, Dad uses them as messengers and they bring beauty wherever they go,” I blurted. Taking the dying lady into my hand, I could feel its heartbeat all the way up my arm, to my heart. I placed my other hand over it and went outside in the darkness and asked Dad if he could make her last moments without pain or any further suffering. I didn’t ask for a healing, just to let her go in peace and also, could he make her a place in paradise, rather than send her back as another bird.
Still holding her in one hand, I grabbed a shoe box, placed a cotton napkin in it, and gently put her in. Also adding a small pickle jar lid with distilled water and organic sugar, should she thirst on her way out of this life. I put her in young Randy’s room, in quiet and darkness, so she could go in peace and the cat couldn’t get to her.
I checked on her 45 minutes later, expecting to find her moved on. To my surprise, she was completely covered in feathers again, her wings unbroken and she let me pick her up, then flew around the room. Not once, but three times. I immediately called son Matthew to see the miracle. Each time she landed somewhere, she let me pick her up and look her over, and then she would fly off again. Eventually we took her outside and let her go in the bougainvilleas.
The dining room floor was still littered with hundreds of tiny hummingbird feathers from where Tink tore her little body apart. But, when I picked her up, she was whole, completely restored and most buzzingly active.
See, even in a world of ugliness, much beauty and goodness abounds. Even when you don’t ask for it.
|A sculpture I purchased a few years ago as a reminder of gratitude for the great blessing of all the many times Dad used a bird to confirm, inform, or answer a prayer, usually by landing the little darling on me or near me.|