Not one of mine.
Months ago, I saw three feral cats on my back steps. I tagged them the Three Mousekateers. Then I came to believe there might actually be four of them. Fast forward to now, two of the original are still here, on the three kittens from one of them. I feed them a can of wet food in the morning and put out a dish of dry food. I had plans of getting them all altered but since have run out of funds. As it is, I feed them and make sure they have water. Recently another cat has been showing up looking for food. This cat doesn’t seem to be doing without, it appears healthy, but it would still come to eat. I would go to the door and it would run, but return. It was taking food from my adopted but still untamed feral cats. I have been going out and removing the dish of dry food when I see the new cat arrive. Which I did moments ago. Then, I was struck with a thought. Denial. Of food. Of sustenance. I walked back through the house and returned the dish of food.
I had done it, because this cat was different. This was not one of -my-cats. I did not know where the different cat was coming from or where it was going when it left. I can’t afford to feed a cat that from all appearances has a home. All manner of thoughts, ideas, reasons, excuses, ran through my mind. right up until the word, denial, went through my mind.
How often do we act that way, around other people? How often, do we forget that simply because one is different, we don’t feed them? There are many different ways, to feed others. Being empathic, highly in tuned to the emotions around me, I had become overwhelmed by all that has been going on. I know I am not alone. To protect myself, I had backed away, shut off some of the things that were feeling as an assault to my mental health. While that is indeed important as individuals can only handle so much, it is also important not to go too far. I fear, we are all feeling under attack and are closing every door. Shutting out everything that we feel feeds the fear, the dark, the bad. Forgetting that there are others, innocent of the dark, who are in need of being fed the sustenance necessary to survive. This reminder, has my heart weeping for my mistakes and for the ones who hunger.
There are those, who have emotional needs. To know someone cares about them. To know that they have not been forgotten. To know that they are seen and heard.
There are those who have intellectual needs. Not only the school age students who may need tutoring in various subjects. But those who seek the truth in what is going on around us. Those who seek discernment on fact from fiction, truth from lie, actions of compassion to abuse of power. Seeking the ability to see beyond the blinds and through the smoke screens created by all set to deceive to find the truth.
There are those with the physical needs. Food, shelter, clothing. Care for their health and well being.
Those who are different in any way. Those of different nationality or race. Those of different social status. Those who think, act, believe different. Those who have and those who have not.
Those with spiritual needs. Those who know nothing and those who believe they know it all. Those who talk the talk, but have no idea how to walk the walk. Those who stand in the dark, holding a candle yet unlit, seeking the one who holds the match. Those who stand in the wilderness and cry out, wishing to be heard.
There are many terms for our friend groups. Peers, Peeps, Squad, and while the list is ever changing and evolving, it always means pretty much the same. These are my friends, these are the important ones, the rest are less or fully insignificant. Those outside, are all on their own.
While so many who claim to Believe, to be Followers, to have faith, instead of answering the cry, turn away. Because they are different. Because they are not, one of theirs. They see the hungry, the hurting, those in need, drop their head and turn away…hungry. Without answers to their questions. Without understanding, without the food that will feed their hungry minds, bodies, and souls. Without the healing of their hearts, because of differences.
I put that dish back out. I won’t turn the other cat away next time. I know now, that when I am driving, walking, shopping, what ever, when I see someone in need, I won’t look at them the same way as before. Not that I judged. Not that I condemned. Not that I thought them less or unworthy as due to past circumstances, have at least a partial understanding. I do, understand hunger. My desire is that my words and actions, may help feed at least a small portion of that need. I have to see how, to deal with the stress of the conspiracies that run rampant around us, and not close off the heart and spirit to those seeking the nourishment of the Light.
Jesus the Christ, fed the multitudes. He didn’t ask for any information on any of them seeking worthiness. He simply blessed the food and fed the hungry. He taught all who would listen. He forgave and forgives all who ask. He readily accepts all, differences in status, in education, in nationality. I seek always, as a Follower, to be like Jesus.
Words from The Dirt Road 