Focus    on Purpose
Focus    on Purpose
If I have faith to move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing
Focus    on Purpose
If I have faith to move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing
© Focus On Purpose July 2017 - 2018

Roger

 “Trust is that rare and priceless treasure

that wins us the affection of our heavenly

Father.”

(Brennan Manning)

A Story of Rescue and Adoption.

Meet Roger. Roger was a feral ginger tomcat who had been around for a few years. I cannot say when I first became aware of him – perhaps three or four years ago, maybe even more. Was Roger always feral? I do not know. It seemed as though he was either cared for, or he had adequate access to an ample food supply. But that was then. I began to become more aware of this boy when my own cats began to chase him from the garden. I would chase him too, for he was big, strong, and brutal. And this street warlord had claimed a portion of my property for his squatter home. Then, one cold, wet, winter's morning I saw him.  His coat drenched, curled up in a tight ball in a wet, leafy bed, using my rubbish-bin as a shelter from the wind and rain. As soon as he saw me, he was gone. My heart wrenched. This warlord was a one-man army, and life was closing in around him. Any attempts to approach this warrior, would result in his immediate departure - but in dashes and dots, making frequent stops to turn and look back at me, confused that I was no longer chasing him. One early December morning, I saw this boy again as my car turned into the driveway. Watching him slink across the garden, it was obvious that food was now also in short supply. As he turned to see if he was being pursued, his fall from power became more apparent; his face swollen, with a large, black, oozing wound on his lower right jaw, and at least one broken canine, making him seem like his daddy was a bulldog. This fallen warrior was desperate for love, but no one seemed to care. I began to put some food out, but he would not come until I had gone indoors. The clunk of the vibracrete wall would be my signal to watch for the exit, confirming that it was my fallen warrior who had eaten. Soon after I had begun to feed hiim, the word began to spread rapidly to all and sundry in the village - there is abundant good, free food available, hurry while stocks last! Apart from the rest of the cats in the neighbourhood, the queue included a droopy Olive Thrush and a plucky Pigeon who enjoyed the Royal Canine Catfood and the fresh-water-baths. After a couple of weeks, I began to sit near the boy’s feeding place, and quietly wait. His hunger begging him to take the chance, growls and snorts warning me to keep my distance, he cautiously drew near. But love is fertile soil for seeds of trust, and in just a few days, he was allowing me to gently touch the top of his head. As I took time to just sit with him each evening, he would come and lie down on my skirt and doze until the time of his nightly beat. If I did not arrive at my regular time, he would curl and up on the lawn in the courtyard, and wait. Caution was still needed as any quick move would result in a ferocious bite or a lashing from his powerful claws.  But trust sprouted, our hearts entwined, and the bond blossomed. As we worked through lists of names, he firmly decided on Roger, so Roger it remained, and the little courtyard became his domain which he fiercely defended. As the winter rains and cold arrived, Roger began to take shelter inside my home. As for my others, this was like offering my home as a place of refuge to Saul of Tarsus, straight after hearing his very fresh testimony of meeting Jesus. Mom may be persuaded, but two of her boys were gravely doubtful and openly hostile. Having experienced genuine love, perhaps for the first time, Roger lay down his weapons, unless urgently needed for self-defence. In doing so, he has come to know that there is a place of refuge in my presence. So, everywhere Rene goes, Roger follows after. Roger does not walk like a cat, but stomps like lion. This adds to the agitation of my two boys, but his desire to be where I am, causes him to negotiate the resistance from the others, and he knows that if the battle- cry gets too loud, I will be there to lift him up and take him to safety. Initially, Roger would be glued to the backdoor, remaining inside just long enough for the rain to cease before heading out again. However, within a few of weeks, he found the sofa and draping himself across it, decided this was home. Not many days later, he found the intimate place of the bedroom. Though initially keeping to the bedside table, he finally found his favourite spot, tight up against me on the bed. There is an incomparably deep joy, as I hear the stomping of Roger's feet behind me, and as I feel his body pressed tightly against mine as I lie sleeping at night. His obvious trust and bond of love, brush over the strings of my spirit, producing an exquisite melody that rises as a sweet sound to the One who originally created me for this very purpose : to represent His love to all creation. But in this love there is also deep pain that arises from the discordance of the conflict caused by those who continue to oppose and reject this boy. As he looks at me from within the ambush, my compassion surges and I cannot but reach down and lift him to safety, or position myself so that I am between Roger and his antagonist. I will protect and rescue him because he trusts me. This is a picture of faith and love. Both are as natural as breathing, but faith thrives in love, and love waits, covers, protects, provides, responds, and overcomes all obstacles, as it draws you into the intimate place of deep, meaningful, relationship. The question is: In what or whom is your faith? Just as Roger would run from me is dashes and dots, we too, run from God in our sin, expecting Him to pursue us in His wrath. Are you still running and cowering? Or have you found a place of refuge? In what, or whom, is your refuge? If you are still running, stop. Turn around. And take a good look at the One from whom you are running. He is the definition and standard of all that is good. He is Love. He has demonstrated that love by paying the highest price possible to give you hope and a future - an everlasting, good, fulfilling, satisfying, future. Will you allow yourself to surrender to Him? He is not chasing you. He waits, longing to take you in, and give you rest, healing, and love - a love that will never fail.
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Focus    on Purpose
If I have faith to move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing
© Focus On Purpose July 2017 - 2018  

Roger

 “Trust is that rare and priceless

treasure that wins us the affection of

our heavenly Father.”

(Brennan Manning)

A Story of Rescue and Adoption.

Meet Roger. Roger was a feral ginger tomcat who had been around for a few years. I cannot say when I first became aware of him – perhaps three or four years ago, maybe even more. Was Roger always feral? I do not know. It seemed as though he was either cared for, or he had adequate access to an ample food supply. But that was then. I began to become more aware of this boy when my own cats began to chase him from the garden. I would chase him too, for he was big, strong, and brutal. And this street warlord had claimed a portion of my property for his squatter home. Then, one cold, wet, winter's morning I saw him.  His coat drenched, curled up in a tight ball in a wet, leafy bed, using my rubbish-bin as a shelter from the wind and rain. As soon as he saw me, he was gone. My heart wrenched. This warlord was a one-man army, and life was closing in around him. Any attempts to approach this warrior, would result in his immediate departure - but in dashes and dots, making frequent stops to turn and look back at me, confused that I was no longer chasing him. One early December morning, I saw this boy again as my car turned into the driveway. Watching him slink across the garden, it was obvious that food was now also in short supply. As he turned to see if he was being pursued, his fall from power became more apparent; his face swollen, with a large, black, oozing wound on his lower right jaw, and at least one broken canine, making him seem like his daddy was a bulldog. This fallen warrior was desperate for love, but no one seemed to care. I began to put some food out, but he would not come until I had gone indoors. The clunk of the vibracrete wall would be my signal to watch for the exit, confirming that it was my fallen warrior who had eaten. Soon after I had begun to feed hiim, the word began to spread rapidly to all and sundry in the village - there is abundant good, free food available, hurry while stocks last! Apart from the rest of the cats in the neighbourhood, the queue included a droopy Olive Thrush and a plucky Pigeon who enjoyed the Royal Canine Catfood and the fresh-water-baths. After a couple of weeks, I began to sit near the boy’s feeding place, and quietly wait. His hunger begging him to take the chance, growls and snorts warning me to keep my distance, he cautiously drew near. But love is fertile soil for seeds of trust, and in just a few days, he was allowing me to gently touch the top of his head. As I took time to just sit with him each evening, he would come and lie down on my skirt and doze until the time of his nightly beat. If I did not arrive at my regular time, he would curl and up on the lawn in the courtyard, and wait. Caution was still needed as any quick move would result in a ferocious bite or a lashing from his powerful claws.  But trust sprouted, our hearts entwined, and the bond blossomed. As we worked through lists of names, he firmly decided on Roger, so Roger it remained, and the little courtyard became his domain which he fiercely defended. As the winter rains and cold arrived, Roger began to take shelter inside my home. As for my others, this was like offering my home as a place of refuge to Saul of Tarsus, straight after hearing his very fresh testimony of meeting Jesus. Mom may be persuaded, but two of her boys were gravely doubtful and openly hostile. Having experienced genuine love, perhaps for the first time, Roger lay down his weapons, unless urgently needed for self-defence. In doing so, he has come to know that there is a place of refuge in my presence. So, everywhere Rene goes, Roger follows after. Roger does not walk like a cat, but stomps like lion. This adds to the agitation of my two boys, but his desire to be where I am, causes him to negotiate the resistance from the others, and he knows that if the battle-cry gets too loud, I will be there to lift him up and take him to safety. Initially, Roger would be glued to the backdoor, remaining inside just long enough for the rain to cease before heading out again. However, within a few of weeks, he found the sofa and draping himself across it, decided this was home. Not many days later, he found the intimate place of the bedroom. Though initially keeping to the bedside table, he finally found his favourite spot, tight up against me on the bed. There is an incomparably deep joy, as I hear the stomping of Roger's feet behind me, and as I feel his body pressed tightly against mine as I lie sleeping at night. His obvious trust and bond of love, brush over the strings of my spirit, producing an exquisite melody that rises as a sweet sound to the One who originally created me for this very purpose : to represent His love to all creation. But in this love there is also deep pain that arises from the discordance of the conflict caused by those who continue to oppose and reject this boy. As he looks at me from within the ambush, my compassion surges and I cannot but reach down and lift him to safety, or position myself so that I am between Roger and his antagonist. I will protect and rescue him because he trusts me. This is a picture of faith and love. Both are as natural as breathing, but faith thrives in love, and love waits, covers, protects, provides, responds, and overcomes all obstacles, as it draws you into the intimate place of deep, meaningful, relationship. The question is: In what or whom is your faith? Just as Roger would run from me is dashes and dots, we too, run from God in our sin, expecting Him to pursue us in His wrath. Are you still running and cowering? Or have you found a place of refuge? In what, or whom, is your refuge? If you are still running, stop. Turn around. And take a good look at the One from whom you are running. He is the definition and standard of all that is good. He is Love. He has demonstrated that love by paying the highest price possible to give you hope and a future - an everlasting, good, fulfilling, satisfying, future. Will you allow yourself to surrender to Him? He is not chasing you. He waits, longing to take you in, and give you rest, healing, and love - a love that will never fail.
Focus    on Purpose
Focus    on Purpose
If I have faith to move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing
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