August 12, 2026 I feel a bit silly praying for my cat. My cat, Jem (I have his sister, Scout, a reference to the book “To Kill a Mockingbird”), somehow fractured his hip six weeks ago. He was fine when I left home to go to the gym, and he was profoundly limping when I got home. I have no clue how it happened. For various reasons, a surgical fix to the injury was not possible. So, on the advice of our veterinarian, the poor kitty has been confined in a cage for six weeks in hopes the fracture will heal sufficiently for him to have a good life. He follows up with the vet in two weeks for x-rays to see if the confinement allowed him to heal. There’s a chance he’ll need another four weeks in the cage. And there’s a chance it won’t work at all. So, I’ve been praying for my cat, but I feel silly and a bit embarrassed about it. There are so many things in this world that are more important than my cat. There are countless people – living and deceased – who need prayers. There are major problems in society and in the world that need prayers. And here I am stressed about and praying for a cat I adopted from an animal shelter. Recently, I was talking to a friend about my cat’s situation. She told me she’d pray for him. I thanked her and told her I hadn’t asked anyone for prayers because I felt like my cat and his injury was such an insignificant thing when so many other important things need prayer and attention. My friend gave me that look that says, “are you serious right now?” “We’re told that ‘even the hairs of your head have been counted,’” my friend reminded me. “If a single hair is that important, I’m sure it’s ok to pray for your cat, a living being you love dearly. If a single hair is important, something you love, a creature God created, isn’t trivial or silly.” I needed that reminder. God loves each of us completely. He loves us from head to toe, inside and out. He loves us in our silliness, our brokenness, our good moments and our bad. And God knows what’s important to us, and it’s important to him, too. And nothing is too big or too small to bring to God. Even the hairs on my head (I wish he’d do something about that gray one that sticks out from the top), and the cat in the cage. We should never feel silly or guilty about bringing something to God. I’ll keep praying for my cat. |
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