Tiger enjoying his catnip.

It was a mean thing to do, I admit it, and unusual for a guy like me. But I had been pushed around long enough, and I finally decided to take a stand. The bullying had to stop, and I was determined to make my retaliation a knock out blow. I loved Tiger and never would have done it to him if he hadn’t been influenced by the Beast, but he had. Yes, “bad company corrupts good morals,” (1 Corinthians15.33).  We got Tiger and Grey Beast as kittens and enjoyed them for almost twenty years. But when it came to food,  Tiger followed the Beast and went Machiavellian. Together they formed a mob, and by yowling and sinking their claws into our calves, succeeded in intimidating any snacking human into giving them a “cut.”

My Pizza was just starting to bubble in the oven, and Tiger and the Beast were at me.  When I ignored their verbal threats the cats took the attack to the next level. It was as I swung the door of the oven open to take out  my slice that I made up my mind about what to do next. I was going to teach them a lesson they would never forget.  Looking back, I’m not proud of what I did. I take no comfort in the fact that I was a pre-believer in those days. Nor can I justify my cruelty on the grounds that I had been taught evolution and was simply making a practical application of my “survival of the fittest” world view. Guilt got a tight grip in my teenage life, though I tried to explain it away.   I used arguments to address my mind, but guilt sliced through my soul like an iceberg below the waterline, and flood all decks. I’ve learned that Guilt only releases it’s grip on a soul when that soul dies, or Guilt finds another soul to grab onto. We love to deny that guilt has a grip on us. We give ourselves every reason to say “I’m okay,” but the escapes, excesses and addictions tell a different story. So we distract ourselves.  We allow the pirates of  profane propaganda in our homes, driven by the perverse winds of a monolithic media. These barbarians jump through the eye gate and raid the soul. They break out the windows of conscience, and set strange fires. They rule by moral minimalism and compel obedience to a ruthless dictator named “Tolerance”.  In exchange for our subjection, Tolerance promises to drive Guilt from around our necks. Yet, any one paying attention to the soul of our nation has to admit it’s been choking for a while, and is now about to lose consciousness. My personal struggle and futile efforts to break the choke hold grip of Guilt in my life is a story for another time.  Suffice it to say, there came a day, when I crawled gasping to the foot of the cross, and with the first flicker of faith, Guilt let go of me, and climbed up on Him. Since then, I’ve been able to breathe.

The frenzied felines fixed their eye on the prize, my sizzling slice, dripping with molten cheese, a savory sacrifice, ready to be offered on the altar of negative reinforcement.   I waved it just above their noses for a moment, hoping to swell their anticipation and set them up for the unexpected. Then I quickly dropped the plate right in front of them and watched them pounce. I was expecting them to dig in, get burned, yowl and run away never to afflict their fellow creatures again. Instead, they came within a whisker of the pizza, backed off without even opening their mouths, sat back, watched it cool for five agonizing minutes, then devoured it. That memory has come back to haunt me like a taunting ghost on many occasions.  It usually happens when I’ve stuffed my face with a sizzling slice and burned my mouth. In the after-burn moments of running my tongue over the shredded remains between my upper teeth, the image of the patient cats comes back to mock me.

Would to God that hot pizza was the only arena for the testing of my patience!  But alas, it is not so, and the consequences of impatience in other areas can last far longer than a burnt mouth..  The Greek word most often translated “patience” in the English Bible is a compound of two words meaning “slow to ignite”.  It is the fourth fruit of the Spirit listed in Galatians 5:22.  How long is your fuse?  A burnt mouth is better in a few days, but the scars from relationships shredded by anger can last a life time. 

Take a slice of patience today, your soul will purr with delight.