I feed two outside cats every morning. One is mine (actually Jody’s that he left here when he ran off and got married), the other is from the neighborhood. Dippy is my cat, I call the other one Slick. I don’t know his real name. They are both at the back door every day. I don’t mind, though, cat’s make you feel needed. Of course, it’s only just a feeling since outside cats don’t need you at all.
Dippy is a hunter. She’s brought me squirrels, moles, mice, birds, rats, lizards, locusts and snakes. None of this was because she was hungry; it is just in her nature to capture her own food. She has the instincts. You’d think having your food hand delivered to your dish every morning for your whole life would pretty much dry up those instincts. But given the opportunity, she’ll stalk and pounce on anything that gets too close. That’s who she is and doing so brings her great fulfillment. Talking to her about it does little good. Her nature is quite compelling.
I live in a world that feeds me. Every morning it greets me with a bowl full of delicious enticement, and, I’ve become quite used to it being there. It’s a manufactured concoction designed to make me feel full yet down deep it doesn’t satisfy. Why? Because I have a different nature that hungers for something else. This new nature is quite compelling. It draws me to provisions far removed from my dish at the back door and urges me to stalk, pounce and devour. When I do, I feel more like who I really am.
God gave me this new nature, one separate and distinct from the world nature I was born with. It fills me with urgings far superior to my natural desires and provides me with exceptional satisfaction when those urgings are fulfilled. The rest is filler that always leaves me hungering for more. The food from the hand of God goes deep and lingers long.
May I walk past the bowl at the back door and find Your provisions for this day.