I am having the worst time figuring out what information to give Wordcrafter for my interview. You wouldn't think someone as arrogant and self-absorbed as I am would have so much trouble talking about herself. I don't here. But what exactly do I say about me and Star of Justice in a few paragraphs?
This is exactly how I felt while trying to decide what to say in my "About Me" blurb. I should just send him "obsessed with food" and leave it at that.
Anyone with suggestions, please leave them here or on my FB page. I meant to send him this info a week ago, and I'm open to any suggestions whatsoever.
Topic change. Allow me to provide some background.
My house has an unfinished basement: concrete floors, stone walls and exposed ceiling/floor joists. The heating/A/C ducts are suspended and would require a tall person to stoop under them.
Skamper was a wild kitten born of a feral mother who took up residence in my garage. I live-trapped the little family, spayed and released the mother and kept the two kittens. Skamper is an odd mix of fear and fearlessness. He will willingly stick his nose into the dog's ear while she's eating but he ran from me the first time I wore earmuffs. For the most part, he is a momma's boy, and I have apparently trained him to trust me implicitly.
Skamper likes to sleep hidden in the basement duct work. It is a place he feels safe from intruders in the house (any human other than me) and Uncle Simon the black cat when he's on a rampage (Simon is too fat to fit in the duct work). Big Brother built me suspended library stacks in the basement when I first moved in, and they provide a perfect ladder to reach a hidey-hole just above the furnace. I know Skamper is up there because I can hear a fourteen pound cat walking along a hollow metal duct. Normally, I have no problem with this.
Last night, he ventured from his normal path and took a walk along the much smaller venting ducts to get on top of the gas water heater. This is unacceptable to me. The heater is dangerous, and I don't know how long those smaller ducts would put up with his weight.
I yelled his name and clapped at him. Startled, he jumped from the heater and started to run away. Then he stopped, cried and ran back to me to be held. I had frightened him, but I am who he comes to when he is frightened.
Why can I not trust God the way my Skamper trusts me? Even when God is the one Who frightens me sometimes, He is the only one Who can protect me, too.
How often has God clapped His hands at me when I am doing something wrong? But I run away and hide under the bed. I need to learn to run to Him for comfort after I am corrected. I have no doubt He will hug me as close as I hugged my Skamper.
So there's a devotional thought for the Tuesday before Easter.
And if you think of something for me to tell Wordcrafter, let me know. This perfectionism-driven procrastination is getting old.