The wind howled and thunder boomed. Rain pelted the clay earth around our porch and streamed down the hill in well-worn, eroded ruts. With the first clap of thunder, the kittens disappeared, presumably under the porch. Not worried about their whereabouts, we finished our tasks for the day.

After the rain cleared, which took several hours, we set out the supper pan for our kitties. We called. Looked in trees. Opened car hoods. Walked around. But no kittens. It was as if they just vanished.

The next morning, the feed pan was full and there was no sign of our two kitties. Surely a critter didn’t get both of them. Wherever they were, the two of them had to be together.

In the stillness of the sweltering summer heat after lunch, I stood outside and called again. I walked toward the wooded area behind the house and called some more. Finally, I heard a tiny meow. Then a louder one. I moved closer to the mewing and called more intently. The bushes shook and leaves crackled as the kittens ran toward my call.

But when I picked them up, they were uncomfortable and shifty. After hiding in the scary woods alone all night, they were still in shock. They knew who I was. They knew they could trust me. But because of their circumstances, fear overrode all their sensibility.

We spent the afternoon petting, holding, and comforting the kittens. Every loud noise made them fuzz their tails and the sound of that day’s thunderstorm caused them to be unsettled. We finally decided to bring them in and let them sit with one of us so they could sleep and regain their senses. Fear, sleep deprivation, and extreme circumstances created way too much stress and anxiety in these kittens. But once they realized it was safe, they rested in the protection of our loving arms.

I’ve thought about this sequence of events many times since then, and as always, can’t help but find the parallel. Like the cats, sometimes I get shaken by the circumstances of life and take off running. I run so hard, when I finally stop, I wonder how I got there and have no idea how to get back home.

And just like I called for the cats, God calls for me. As it was with the kittens, sometimes it takes several calls before he gets my attention, but eventually I recognize his voice and run toward him with all that I have.

But when I find myself picked up in his firm embrace, often I become uncomfortable and shifty. After hiding in the scary woods alone in the night, I am in shock. I know who God is. I know I can trust him. But because of the circumstances that drove me to the woods, fear overrides all my sensibility.

And what does God do? Exactly what we did with our kittens. He spends time comforting and reminding me who he is and who I am to him through whatever means necessary.  When the loud noises of life send me spiraling, he woos me out of the elements and into the sanctuary of his rest. He lets me be with him. And once I finally realize it’s safe, I rest securely in the protection of his loving arms.

Fear, sleep deprivation, and extreme circumstances create way too much stress in my life and often cause me to take off running without looking back. I’m so thankful for a God who loves me enough to call me out of my hiding and patiently helps me learn to once again rest securely in his presence.

Now If I can only learn to stop running at every little noise…