04/12/2026
Uplift Sunday
What we deeply love becomes a part of us….
One early spring morning I walked out my backdoor headed for the garage when something tugged at me to look up, past my garage to a window of an abandoned house behind mine. Crouched in the windowsill overlooking the roof of the first story were three tiny kittens, two black and white and one grey and white. I was so surprised that I stopped in my tracks. Where was their mother I wondered? As I gazed at them, one of the black and white kittens met my gaze. Time slowed. His eyes locked with mine, and I felt a jolt—electric, unmistakable, as if a current leapt between us. My breath caught; it was as though he pressed his tiny face right into the softest part of my heart. I can’t explain it, but in that instant, it felt like we had always known each other.
I could not shake the feeling that came over me. I was determined to meet him. I set traps with food to coax them out of the house. It took me weeks to capture them all, including the mama. I wanted, more than anything, to keep the heart-thief. But I already had two cats, so I forced myself to find him a home.
Twenty-four hours later, my phone rang. The woman’s voice was sharp and exasperated: She told me the kitten was a “terror,” and too “wild” to be tamed. She insisted I come get him immediately. I was trapped at work, anxiety burning in my gut, so I sent a friend. Hours later, I returned home, to find the “wild-terror” on his back on my friend’s lap. I looked at her in surprise, joking, “Where’s the terror?” My friend just grinned, pointing to the tiny furball nestled on her lap. Relief and joy crashed over me. In that moment, I knew—he was mine, and I was his.
Ten short years later, he was gone. I cannot describe the immense pain I felt in losing my friend. It felt like our souls had been woven together and his passing had wrenched them apart. The pain was sharp and unyielding. I knew him like the back of my hand. We had been so close that a single look told entire stories; we were knotted together by an unspoken language. I could not imagine my life without him.
More than ten years have passed since his death, but he is still here—woven into the marrow of my bones, curled up in the deepest corners of my heart. Even though he is physically gone, I can still feel him. Our souls are still connected. I cannot fathom who I might have become without him. He taught me what it means to break open, to love—fearlessly, completely, all in.
