We have 3 cats. You can read about how we got them here. They are sisters, so they share genes. They’ve grown up in the same home – ours – and we’ve done our best to make sure they get equal rights, privileges and love. In spite of that, their personalities are completely unique.

This is Gwinny. Short for Guinevere. She is a complete lady, secure in her charms. Having perfected the art of the flop, she can melt hearts in 2 seconds flat. All she needs to do is run across the room with the purring-meow thing she does, flop on your lap (your book, your work, your laptop … the effect is the same) and you are hooked. Smitten. Stuck until she moves. She is the fluffiest of the three and somehow commandeered the soft fur genes.

The beauty on the right is Ginger. Her fur is more coarse and from day one, she has been less open to being loved.

The third is Sleepy and she doesn’t feature in today’s thought. Sorry Sleepy.

Back to the other two – I love cats. In spite of hideous cat allergies, they make a house a home and add so much life and love. But here’s the thing that struck me – Gwinny lets me love her. When I bend down to rub her head, she purrs and pushes against my hand. Ginger cringes and pulls away. Not all the time, but mostly.

Guess who gets the most evidence of my love.

I love each cat just as much as the others, but that’s not what it looks like to someone who doesn’t know me. That got me thinking about God and His love for us. When He draws close to show us how much He loves us, do we press into His hand, secure in His love, enjoying His attention? Or do we pull away?

There are many reasons to hold back, to be wary of opening up to Him. I know that. But I also know that not one of those reasons comes from His heart.

Interesting thought, hey?