I don’t usually do “cutesy” talks.
I mean, clever, absolutely. Maybe occasionally a bit whimsical. I like a good pun as much as the next person, and I LOVE a bad pun. I’ll shamelessly sling ridiculous jokes. And I think I’m pretty skilled at addressing even my heaviest existential angst with a fair dose of lightness and fun.
But “cute?” Not so much.
So I was really resistant to my own brain when I kept thinking about doing a talk about the wisdom of my cats. (As I write this, it occurs to me that this might not sound “cute” so much as “crazy,” but whatever, you know what I mean.)
It started a few weeks ago when I was at my desk preparing my Sunday message with my big orange tabby, Val, sprawled across the keyboard for about 3 hours. She was being darned sweet, but she was slowing me down considerably. And I was snorting fluffs of cat hair with every keystroke. I took a picture of her and shared it on social media.
Someone commented, “What a good helper!” My semi-sarcastic reply was something about her astonishing theological insights — Naps, Treats, and Snuggles.
Then I went back to suffering through my work — agonizing about whether or not what I was writing was any good, feeling tired and over caffeinated at the same time, and worried that the bagful of goldfish crackers I had just snarfed down in about 3 minutes was transforming immediately into back-fat…
It was only later that I wondered seriously if Val might be on to something.
Thinking about it now, it seems to me that naps, treats, and snuggles are pretty solid priorities. Especially compared to what I too often find to be my own habitual defaults: exhaustion, self-recrimination, and feelings of inadequacy and loneliness.
So this week’s talk might be a little cute. Or weird. Or both. Channeled cat-wisdom, because Val and Flo told me so.
I can’t wait to see you this Sunday, September 29. Service at 10:00 am. XO, Drew
© 2019 Drew Groves