cat palms

This Sunday is my cat's favorite. I have a mentally deficient cat who loves to attack the palm fronds you get on Palm Sunday if you go to a church that passes them out. My cat, CJ, is the most enthusiastic palm-waver I've ever seen....and biter, and eater, and attacker and dragger of the palms from wherevery they may be to wherever they may land when his walnut brain gets distracted. It doesn't matter if they are behind a picture frame or mirror the cat can't reach, on the table where he shouldn't jump or hidden. Eventually they wind up scattered all over the floor with bite marks.

Somehow I forgot today was Palm Sunday. I woke up really not wanting to go to church. Friday and Saturday were a bit hard physically and emotionally. My daughter who was in from Philly had to go "home", and our Friday Celebrate Recovery small group was pretty intense. Then Saturday at the prison somehow no matter how much we laughed and shared and felt good words were spoken, one woman who was supposed to be out was there again, and several others were determined it didn't matter what they did-they'd leave drugging and drinking and be back in again. I know this is part of the gig. I know not everyone will be changed by what me or my partner says, or our leaders in CR. I know.

So seeing those palms scattered all over the floor being guarded by an anxiety-ridden kitty who eats his own fur was sort of heart-warming. It was good to be home in my own house. It was good to know it bothered me some about not wanting to go to church. And I did go, and it was good to remember that the King is still on the throne no matter how people live their lives. After I left the prison on Saturday I headed straight to an art competition drop because I know I do good work and I live out my passion for art. So much comes down to knowing what you want and choosing. My crazy cat sure knows he loves his palms, and I think sometimes I have to be reminded it's good to know what your life is about and can go for what you love.