My sister Nancy has a cat named Shiva — the Hindu destroyer god. When she was a little kitty, everything was to be chewed and torn apart. Shiva is the most beautiful cat. She is young and powerful and playful and smart. I hold out my hand and she passes by, rubbing against it. She gladly eats kibble from my hand while we sit together at the big front window. She plays when I dangle one of her toys. But Shiva is a Momma’s girl. So far, she has not granted me what I really want. she has not spent time cuddling on my lap, or in bed with me as I wake up in the morning.
I live in hope, for you see, I am a cat person, and I’m missing my own kitty Bae Bae. I miss long sessions of her stretched out with her head near mine as her claws gently cut holes in my left shoulder. I miss her complaining about the food I feed her. I miss her sleeping on my bed with me. In short, I need cat time and Shiva just isn’t interested — yet. She is slowly warming to me. My fear is that it will take all of my time here at Nancy and Rick’s for her to decide to grace me with some true cat love.
When I woke up this morning I was thinking about this. And it occurred to me that my relationship with Shiva isn’t strange. Rather, it’s just like every true relationship: I have to accept Shiva for who and what she is. I have to enjoy what she can give without demanding something of her that she can’t. I’m bigger and stronger than her, so I could go pick her up and force her to sit on my lap. She might even tolerate it for a while. But I guarantee that the next time I approached her she would scamper off.
There is no person that I can truly bend to be the way I want them to be either. Even with children this is true. I don’t have any of my own, but I’ve watched and listened as parents live with their children. It seems to me that the more that parents accept who and what their children are, the happier everyone is. (Of course I’m not advocating for hands-off parenting. Children do need to learn right from wrong, and manners, etc.) This is also true of friends. Sometimes I’ve found that a person who started as a friend just doesn’t really click with me. What do I do? Do I try to change them? From personal experience I can say that is not a winning strategy. Do I simply move on? Sometimes that’s really the best answer. If being around a person causes more stress or anger or discomfort than joy and peace, that person probably shouldn’t be in your circle. Or, do I accept them for who and what they are, hoping that they will give me that same grace, and receive what they are able to give? This can be frustrating and can feel incomplete. But it really is the best course if we want to receive love and give it.
I’m reminded of Jesus’ encounter with Zacchaeus in Luke 19:
He entered Jericho and was passing through it. 2A man was there named Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was rich. 3He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was short in stature. 4So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree to see him, because he was going to pass that way. 5When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.” 6So he hurried down and was happy to welcome him. 7All who saw it began to grumble and said, “He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner.” 8Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, “Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.” 9Then Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. 10For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.”
Jesus didn’t start with trying to change Zacchaeus. Rather, he saw him for who he was, and loved him as he was. That very love — keep in mind that when Jesus loves you, you are LOVED — opened up the changes in Zacchaeus that were brewing down deep in him. Jesus was able to connect with Zacchaeus without demanding that he first change.
I was trying to think of a recipe to go with this post. I love the story of Stone Soup. Stone soup, you may remember, doesn’t have a real recipe. No, that’s not quite right. It has a very definite recipe, but the recipe isn’t about ingredients. It’s about everyone sharing a little from the little they have, and the resulting soup is rich, flavorful and feeds the whole community. So, here goes:
Stone Soup.
