Dead Mice Offerings (image deliberately omitted)

We have two cats, Stitches and Lucky. They are about as opposite in personalities as it’s possible for two felines to be. Stitches is demure and doesn’t like to be held, yet she’s the one who will cuddle against my backside in the sewing room chair when given the opportunity. Lucky on the other hand is a Tigger; impetuous, playful, and affectionate.

We don’t know which one of them is leaving us “presents”.

It started this spring after we were gone for a week. We came home to a thoroughly disgusting dead mouse on the porch by the back door. The unspoken message was, “You weren’t here to feed us, we don’t want you to leave again so we’re going to feed you.”

There have been two this week, and neither were on the back porch by the door . . . no, they were in the work area of the kitchen where thankfully I didn’t step on them. I’ve not figured out what the meow message is supposed to be, unless it’s something like, “I’d like mine medium rare”, which of course we know isn’t going to happen.

It crossed my mind this morning while disposing of mousie #2, (found intact next to the refrigerator unlike it’s predecessor that had internal parts missing) that our offerings to God must seem a lot like that sometimes. I know my cats mean well. My mom told me years ago that it’s their way of taking care of their family and showing appreciation. Yet what possible use could a dead mouse be to a human other than something to throw out and maybe fertilize the garden . . . like compost? And when you consider the diseases that mice can carry do you even want to do that??

I’m reminded that my own works are like that to God, pretty disgusting. While I may mean well, and be very sincere, if it’s not led by His Spirit, and washed in His Blood, it’s not worth a whole lot in eternity’s economy.

And eternity, under the shadow of his wings, is where I want to live. So no dead mice for my God today! He wants my heart and I’m glad to give it to Him – just not on the kitchen floor.