Under the Hosta

Axel scurried across the lawn, the early evening breeze a tail wind. Snakes and mice and squirrels, oh my! Such a long day of hunting and chasing. In need of a break, he crossed Swat’s well-worn path and ducked under a large hosta leaf. The size of the plant accommodated his full-grown length and girth, the low-hanging leaf covering the entry to his private hideaway. The broad-leafed hosta was the larger of two varieties growing under old, arched, massive juniper shrubs. It was cool there and today the soil was not quite damp; perfect for a cat nap.

For some ambiguous reason, Axel‘d done his best to avoid Swat. Perhaps the cat’s intimidating name, perpetually mussed long gray mottled fur, or daily measured march around the neighborhood gave a foreboding air. Axel’d rather give a wide berth, or hide in his napping spot, than meet the wizened cat. Avoidance, part of his prism of defensiveness was an early-learned survival technique, one that could lead to isolation. Within Swat’s worn, aged, ragged body resided a kind face and heart. Perhaps one day, the younger cat would have courage to see and not run away.

The breeze ruffled the hosta leaves, a dull lulling sound. Swat soon forgotten, Axel slipped into a deep sleep, and tumbled into a vivid technicolor movie of memories. The cat fight when he was but two months old. The matted, angry cat responsible for the scar across his nose and the missing tip from his ear. Swat’s brother? The mottled fur and measured walk…the resemblance was uncanny. No…no need to go there again. In his dream Axel fled his attacker, howling his pain. Would he ever get over it? Other cats didn’t intimidate him…just ones whose looks or behavior poked at his early kitten trauma.

Thunder boomed, startling Axel awake. He streaked t’wards home, the fresh image of his long-ago attacker inches behind him. The cat-door flapped shut as he raced to his cushy bed and curled against the curved corner. This was his happy place, the hosta hideaway a close second. Heart pounding, he sighed heavily with relief. He was home again. Safe from the bully. Safe from the fighting. Safe from the fear. Safe from the shame. Safe momentarily from being hurt again.

~~~

LORD, thank You that You know and understand our deepest wounds. No matter how long those hurts chase us, we can find healing and restoration through Your transforming grace. Help us to overcome all that would rob our joy, impair our relationships, isolate us in our hurts. Revive us and restore us. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Psalm 147:3 NKJV “He heals the brokenhearted
And binds up their wounds.”

Psalm 38:21-22 “Do not forsake me, O Lord;
O my God, be not far from me! 22 Make haste to help me,
O Lord, my salvation!”