Serving the King. Or Captain

Sure, it's only been a week, but you're wondering how the kitten is, aren't you? What? You're sick of kitten stories? Couldn't be.

He's a bit spoiled.

He also has developed the somewhat peculiar habit of jumping on top of the bushes and just hanging out there. Perhaps it is a cat hammock of some sort. Cattock?

Some of you may recall that I really didn't want another cat, and having this vulnerable little guy dumped off here was hardly welcome.

Now I like to milk a metaphor for all it's worth, but even I may think I'm going a bit too far in saying that maybe, just maybe, the kitten has something in common with Jesus.

You didn't click away yet did you?

Jesus came to earth as a tiny, vulnerable baby. I'm pretty sure if I was the Innkeeper's wife, I'd walk past the stable and think, "Poor kid - gonna be a rough life for him." And not, "Maybe I should worship the King, my Messiah."

A tiny life, which on the outside looks like it has little to recommend it's future. I tend to like to know when something really fantastic is in front of me. I don't like having to think too hard about it.

And that's when I need to stop and realize that there is a lot of fantastic goodness all around me, and I often miss it. I would have missed Jesus' deity and profound presence for what it was and would have dismissed it as "common" or worse.

Certainly The Captain is hardly the King of Kings (though he seems to think so). But he's a gift, he's wondrous and he's mine.

Just like Jesus.