Our Dear Cat
For the director of music. A maskil[c] of the Sons of Korah.
1 As the deer pants for streams of water,
so my soul pants for you, my God.
2 My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?
3 My tears have been my food
day and night,
while people say to me all day long,
“Where is your God?”
4 These things I remember
as I pour out my soul:
how I used to go to the house of God
under the protection of the Mighty One[d]
with shouts of joy and praise
among the festive throng.
5 Why, my soul, are you downcast?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.
6 My soul is downcast within me;
therefore I will remember you
from the land of the Jordan,
the heights of Hermon—from Mount Mizar.
7 Deep calls to deep
in the roar of your waterfalls;
all your waves and breakers
have swept over me.
8 By day the Lord directs his love,
at night his song is with me—
a prayer to the God of my life.
9 I say to God my Rock,
“Why have you forgotten me?
Why must I go about mourning,
oppressed by the enemy?”
10 My bones suffer mortal agony
as my foes taunt me,
saying to me all day long,
“Where is your God?”
11 Why, my soul, are you downcast?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.
As I reflect on this psalm over and over, I see Mr Bean as the deer. He didn't have a soul (no eternity for pets) but his spirit mattered. I loved him immensely. I still love him as if he's still here but it's slowly changing. I don't anticipate his cuddles anymore, although I finally miss them enough to crave them. at first I kept thinking he'd come into the room. he'd be back soon. in fact, he was already gone. now that I've accepted that, I miss his presence in a way that I long for him to be back home. these little pieces of him I hold onto aren't enough. the reality is no one or nothing can ever replace Bean. no amount of sentiment can create another kitten with his exact DNA. no other spirit of an animal can be Bean. I'll never see him again and it's final. it's a cold reality that only God has warmed with little beauties like my orchid budding and blooming right during this month of grief. God is good, praise Him!
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