Rafiki

My child, listen to me and do as I say, and you will have a long, good life. I will teach you wisdom’s ways and lead you in straight paths.

“OH, BUDDY, I WISH you could understand that I’m doing all of this to help you,” Cheri whispered to her cat, Rafiki, as he slept beside her.

Although the beige-and-orange cat seemed to be handling his recent diabetes diagnosis and subsequent treatment well, the regimen was starting to weigh heavily on Cheri. Rafiki didn’t fight or scratch or run from her, but she could tell by his wariness that he didn’t understand why she was pricking his ears often up to fifteen times a day, wiping his skin with alcohol wipes, or making drastic changes to his diet. He just wanted to play and sleep and sit by her computer while she worked. And Cheri desperately wanted that for him as well.

She loved her little cat’s big personality, playfulness, and ability to sleep anywhere. She wanted him to be able to spend his days exploring and finding the most inconvenient and hilarious places to sleep. But it seemed like since his diagnosis, each day was now taken up with his diabetes treatment. The vet had assured Cheri that she wouldn’t have to draw his blood as often once they found the right insulin dose and treatment plan for him and that his care would feel much more manageable soon. But those days seemed far, far away. In the meantime, Cheri was still having to prick Rafiki’s ear in order to run glucose tests every hour in order to see how his little body was responding to treatment.

Cheri worried that Rafiki would start to be fearful when she approached him. After all, she would definitely become skittish of someone who came at her with a needle every sixty minutes.

But Cheri was committed to doing whatever it took to care for the little orange cat who had completely captivated her heart—even if it meant causing him temporary discomfort.

Cheri laid her head back on the sofa cushion and watched Rafiki as he slept beside her. His paws twitched a moment before he fully extended his front legs and rested his head against his right leg. Cheri gently rubbed the side of her index finger along Rafiki’s leg. He purred in appreciation. In that moment Cheri wished, more than anything, that she could speak cat, or somehow make Rafiki understand.

“None of this is your fault,” she whispered. “The diabetes isn’t your fault.” Cheri cupped her hand and softly stroked his head. “You aren’t a bad cat. And I’m not doing this to punish you or hurt you or to be mean. In fact . . .” Cheri gently pulled Rafiki onto her lap, “you are a wonderful cat. So wonderful that I will do whatever it takes to keep you healthy and safe and right here with me.”

Rafiki opened one eye and seemed to study her for a minute. Cheri couldn’t tell if he was wondering how he ended up in her lap or if he was bracing himself for another poke. But after a moment, he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

“I know you don’t understand, little one, but I do, and you can trust I am doing what is best for you. Always.”

As a purr reverberated through Rafiki’s body, Cheri leaned her head back and joined her cat in a nap.

PAWS & PONDER . . .

Rafiki had to learn to trust Cheri. Does trusting God come easily to you? Or is it a struggle? What role does trust play in listening to God’s instruction? Are you dealing with something today that requires wisdom? Will you take a moment and ask God to guide you?

Paws & Pray

Lord, help me believe you always want the best for me—even when my circumstances make it difficult to accept that promise. Incline my heart toward you and teach me to treasure your Word and glean its wisdom. When I grow weary and confused, please make your presence known.