In light of a recent post I wrote entitled “The Cat is Dead”, it is with a mixture of disbelief and concern in between suppressed inappropriate giggles (you know, the kind of laughter that comes over you at a funeral or a somber moment and that you know is so wrong, but you can’t stop) that I now write to say that we fear our remaining cat, Forrest, has Run, Forrest, Run away. Or, perhaps has met a terrible fate in the woods next to our house. Noah put it best bluntly this afternoon, “It’s time to face facts, Mom. He’s dead.” Forrest hasn’t appeared in two or three days and there is no sign of his water or food being touched. We have canvassed the neighborhood this afternoon too.

But, even in the midst of yet another life lesson on the oh-so-temporary ownership of outdoor cats, the children have taught me instead of me teaching them. As we drove to church this morning (Joel goes separately earlier than we do), they were discussing their worries and expressing sadness. Sarah Grace and Noah discussed that we should pray about it. Now, theologically speaking, I don’t know if we should pray over a missing cat or if that is too trivial a concern to pray over, but then again, God knows our hearts on all issues and we have taught our children to pray and that God listens. So, who am I to tell them not to pray? Yes, I agreed, we should pray, even if it is for us to have peace and comfort that Forrest might not be coming back to us. (And, silently, I surmised that he is probably a goner.)

Our new church has a dedicated prayer room. And, this is only our second Sunday at the new church. But, Noah and Sarah Grace hopped out of the car and ran into the building ahead of me. I walked to the prayer room door and quietly opened it. Sarah Grace was alone and didn’t hear me. She was praying earnestly and I managed to snap a photo without her knowledge. The image I caught brought tears to my eyes. I walked away to give her privacy and peace. I met Noah coming down the hall on his way to the prayer room. Just then Sarah Grace exited and Noah slipped in. And, because I was curious, I managed to open the door as he prayed without disturbing him, and took a picture of him also. I posted the photos of them just before this post, so scroll down to see them. They are completely unstaged and they were unaware of my presence.

If the cat never returns, it will be sad, but we will go on. But, the lesson my children taught me today will be forever imprinted in my mind and heart. They trust in God to hear their concerns, even if the answer isn’t given or isn’t the one that they hope for. We should bow down before God and have a personal relationship with Him. Shouldn’t we all have the faith of little children?