Well, I guess God really did mean he didn’t want me to have cats. I’m back to no kitties.

I told Pastor Tom about God taking Miracle Kitty and how horribly unfair it was on top of everything else. He was commiserating with me. Then I told him I’d gotten THREE new kitties to replace Miracle and there were plenty more where those came from!

He laughed for a full five minutes and said he was relieved the Mott spirit was fully intact.

But I don’t think God appreciated the “Mott Spirit.”

In steady succession each cat came down with crapping disease. The vet tried to cure them but failed. They left liquid diarrhea all over my patio, barn etc until I was forced to send them to the pound. And happily.

The third Kitty went feral and only shows up for an occasional meal.

I don’t know if God has a sense of humor or if he’s just downright mean. But my haughty spirit got me nowhere. He obviously really didn’t want me to have cats.

God won this round.

Which is funny.

But sometimes not so funny. The barn is even more lonely without the antics of the kittens. Now it’s just down to me and the flowers and the peanut patch. Which is coming along nicely.

I joined a Bible Study group at the urging of a friend in one of my grief groups. So far it’s a disaster. I enjoyed the discussion part of things but we finished early. The last fifteen minutes of the meeting, these very kind women who have been studying together for a long time tried so hard to encourage me through my grief.

Their kind platitudes. “God will never give you more than you can bear..” “Ben is in a better place..” “It was his time…” “He wouldn’t want you to feel sad…”

I endured all fifteen minutes of their “pep talk” with a frozen smile, then raced for my pillow and soaked it once again.

If I could be granted a super power it would be to make people feel what I feel for just one hour. Or even five minutes.

Platitudes would be outlawed and people suffering grief wouldn’t be subjected to them.

The ladies were well-meaning and trying to be kind. They just can’t and don’t understand and I hope they never do. They would feel the same shame I feel when I think back over my own words to others in grief. I wince sometimes remembering how stupid I was.

One thing I found interesting in the Bible Study was my attitude toward God vs theirs. Theirs is probably right and mine wrong, considering I’m the only one with my attitude.

But mine is abject fear. Theirs is the “benevolent father.”

How can I ever look upon him again as a benevolent father? Am I even supposed to?

I’m really not sure about the answer to that. Their position is more comfortable and reassuring than mine. But is that what God’s really after? The Santa Claus figurehead?

Modern religion would have you believe that, but I’m not sure that’s right Biblically.

Much to ponder on that subject.

I do think my relationship with him is more authentic now than it ever has been in my life. Not comfortable at all. But very real.

However, I don’t love him. And I’m supposed to. I think. He’s given me many reasons to fear him over the past six months but very few reasons to love him. Is fear enough? Is that what he was after all along? Because I loved him before, like the “benevolent father” just as the Bible Study ladies do. And that didn’t work out so well.

I wish our religion wasn’t so tainted with modernity. I might find I easier to accept my circumstances and not expect the benevolent father to rescue me.