Why Couldn't I Keep My Cat?

When an illness or accident ends in death, the one left alone can cry out to God. He will listen and answer with love and compassion. He does not cause us to lose the ones we love to draw us closer to Him, instead, He draws us closer to Him because He knows that we are going to lose loved ones.







If you've lost a friend or loved one through death, then you probably know there is one little word that poses a huge question, "Why?" 

Some of us have had a really hard time reconciling answers to this question. Others are afraid to even ask fearing that it might be wrong to question God. Is God big enough to handle our questions? 
Does God get mad when we ask questions? 
Will God answer our questions? 

Will we ever know "Why?"



Peggy is one of the kindest, most gentle ladies I've ever met. She is a caring person whose giant heart has known more than its share of sadness. She has cared for several friends and family members with cancer, even her cat and dog had cancer. I's been said that everyone will have a close friend or family member with cancer, and this may be as true for you and me as it has been for Peggy.


After her husband's battle with cancer, Peggy found it comforting to have her old friend, Fluffy, sleeping by her side. Some how the night did not seem as dark, the room as cold and lonely, nor the day as tiring when she could hear the soft purr of her gentle companion. Falling asleep alone is one of the hardest things to do when you've lost a husband. Tossing on a pillowcase that is damp with your own tears when you're somewhere between exhaustion and insomnia can be a very lonely place.

Peggy fell asleep many nights talking over the events and problems of the day with Fluffy. Sometimes Peggy wondered if Fluffy missed Duke as much as she missed Ricky. Duke was a Lab who had joined the family long before the death of Peggy's husband, Ricky. When Fluffy strayed into the family a few years later, Duke had acted all big and bad at first just to make sure he was still the Alpha dog. But soon Fluffy won his heart as well as Peggy's.

Duke's death was a sharp contrast to his long, care-free life. At the very end, it was determined that Duke had cancer. "What a slap in the face," Peggy thought. Ricky had died just the year before after a two-year battle with cancer. And now, Duke! It didn't seem right that this should be happening all over again. Peggy was grateful that he didn't suffer as long as Ricky had battled the disease, and certainly it was not as bad as all the hospital stays and medical bills. But it still hurt to come home without Duke's joyful welcome at the front door.

Then Fluffy began to show troublesome signs of aging. Peggy noticed that she didn't jump on the back of the sofa when the afternoon sun cast wispy shadows on the wall. Birds landing on the window sill outside didn't seem to catch her eye quite as often, and she slept a lot more than usual. Peggy wanted to think that Fluffy was just getting old and maybe bored without Duke. But in her heart, she felt that familiar dread that maybe it was something more serious. When she came home from work and noticed that Fluffy had not eaten for the third day in a row, Peggy knew it was time to take her to the vet.

Coming home without Fluffy was just as hard as loosing Duke. The vet said the kind and humane thing to do was to let her go peacefully without suffering the effects of feline leukemia any longer. The words "kind and humane" echoed in Peggy's mind as she drove home alone. No one seemed to be worried about being kind or humane when it came to the pain that stabbed  through Peggy's heart like a jagged knife.

How could God take every one in her house? Why was God punishing me, making me live alone, letting even the dog and cat die from cancer? Peggy began to silently ask herself these questions in the car on the way home. Bitter tears made it hard to see the street signs, but it didn't matter because she knew that lonely road so well. Her life felt as dark as the dead end street.

No one at home, no one to talk to, no one to cook for, no one to sleep with, no one to hold when your heart is breaking. Peggy wept bitter tears sitting in the middle of the bed feeling abandoned and very much alone. She really didn't feel like praying, but she had plenty she wanted to say to God.  And that one big question, "Why?"  She cried out the question that she couldn't keep in her heart. "Why, God, why couldn't I keep my cat?" 


Through tears and sobs, Peggy poured out her hurt to God. It wasn't a prayer. It wasn't a conversation. It was as honest as it gets though. "Why did you take my cat? Now I have no one left to talk to at night!" 


And the answer came quietly, "Maybe you could talk to me."  God's still small voice was filled with kindness and compassion. "Just talk to me, Peggy."  


God's gentle answer was loving, caressing her pain. No, He did not take away everyone in Peggy's house that she loved. Cancer took their lives. But when there was no one else to answer the cries of hopelessness, God was there with a soft voice that said, "I love you and I will listen." 


When an illness or accident ends in death, the one left alone can cry out to God. He will listen and answer with love and compassion. He does not cause us to lose the ones we love to draw us closer to Him, instead, He draws us closer to Him because He knows that we are going to lose loved ones. He knows that pain will be like nothing we've ever experienced before, and He wants to be the One we turn to for comfort.  He loves us so well, and He doesn't mind the questions or the cries of anger, pain, and loneliness. He will listen and He will answer when we call out to Him.   

"May the LORD give strength to his people!  May the LORD bless his people with peace!" - Psalm 29:11

Lord, when we hurt more than words can express, and all we have are tears and unanswered questions, please answer with your goodness and love. In Jesus' name, Amen. 

My Little Samuel (as told to me by his mother)

“My Little Samuel,

My Little Samuel,

He’s a precious little tiny angel.

My Little Samuel.”

I sang this song to him over and again while we rocked! Samuel means “Asked of God” – that is exactly what I had done. Just like Hannah asked for her son in I Samuel 1:10, I had prayed for a child. God granted that gift with a wonderful 7 lb. 10 oz. baby boy – Samuel!

We had three and a half busy, happy years together before God took Samuel home to be with him. I felt such unimaginable grief, betrayal, anguish, abandonment, emptiness, injustice – “This can’t be – God didn’t really give me the desire of my heart only to take him back! I didn’t have long enough, I needed more time!” It was around midnight on a Saturday night when my life was changed forever – my little Samuel was gone tragically on Mother’s Day.

The day began like so many others, as I was cooking breakfast while Samuel played upstairs in the playroom. I heard him crying and I ran upstairs. He was holding a place on his chest. There was no blood to indicate a serious injury, but I held him until he quit crying. There was nothing but a tiny red dot on his chest. He wanted to show Daddy and put a Winnie the Pooh band-aid on it. A small accident was an all-too-familiar scene in the life of a three year old boy.

When the babysitter arrived, my husband and I went to work and all seemed well. When I got home from work, Samuel's babysitter said he had not felt good after a long nap. She took his shirt off and showed me the place he had hurt that morning. The tiny red dot had swollen like a mosquito bite. We went out to dinner with some friends and Samuel was just not himself. He didn’t want to eat or play.

At dinner, I noticed the place on his chest was bruising. Afterwards, we decided to take him to the emergency room just to make sure everything was okay. The nurse took his vital signs and he seemed to be fine although he did not want her to touch his chest. While we were going over the insurance information, my husband held Samuel in his arms. Suddenly, Samuel had a seizure that made his little body become stiff. The doctors and nurses were running everywhere. They made Ron put Samuel on a bed and immediately they ran us out of the room. The doctors and nurses worked on him for two hours trying to revive him. It was after midnight when the doctor told us there was nothing they could do. The doctor could not hide his own tears as he said that Samuel had bled internally all day. He said there was no way we could have known that anything was wrong. He said that he would not have even brought his own child in any sooner than we did. I later realized that it was Mother’s Day when Samuel was pronounced dead.

I felt as though my world had stopped when Samuel died. Life became very dark. I felt like it was the end of my hopes, the end of my dreams, and the end of the world that I lived for. The reality that he was gone was more than I could bear.

I thought of all the things I could never do again. I could never hold him again, rock him to sleep, kiss his tiny hurts, brush that baby fine hair, sing to him and teach him, watch cartoons or play outside, hear him call my name, see the sparkle in his eyes, comfort him when he was afraid, clean up his messes and pick up toys, wash his little clothes, give him a bath as he played with tub toys, sing with him while getting him dressed, praise him for “going potty,” or touch his soft skin, know his sweet love, go to birthday parties or day care, read bed time stories, or watch him participate in school programs.

I thought about not seeing him grow through kindergarten, elementary and high school, play soccer, walk across the stage at graduation, go to college, or even marry and have a family of his own.  My arms were empty, but even more the arms of my heart ached to hold him one more time – just once!  All that was left to remind us of Samuel were his toys and clothes, his room, his friends, his pictures, our memories, and his tiny hand-prints on the windows. I felt that all I really had left was the agony of empty arms.

This was the first time I had ever felt disappointed in God, thinking He had not taken care of me. I had given my life to the Lord when I was 6 years old, so I had always been confident that God was in me and with me taking care of me. Although I felt disappointed in God, the truth is that He never said that life would be fair. I felt cheated because the plans I had for my life were not His plans. There were no answers for my tormenting questions. We never really knew what caused Samuel’s death. When I could no longer answer my questions about who I was any more, what was my purpose for living was now, God answered them for me. I felt that I was at the end of my rope when I read Romans 8:26-27:

     In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know     what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God’s will.

Indeed the Spirit had interceded for me when I was so emotionally exhausted that there were no words. Then I could finally say to God, “All that I am and all that is mine are Yours.” When I finally gave it all to Him, He began to renew my mind with His strength, His presence, compassion and grace. I had to be still and let Him overwhelm me with the reality that He is God. I had to be still and surrender my hopes and dreams to Him!

One year later, my Mom died after much suffering with cancer. I was numb from losing my baby and my Mama. Ironically, it was again on Mother’s Day – when I should have been celebrating with my Mom and being celebrated for being a Mom!  For me, it was gripping grief – nothing more.  As time passed, I sought healing and yielded to God’s sovereignty. I learned to celebrate the little things, to praise God for His purposes and plans, to cherish the time with loved ones, to give them to God in my heart, to try to see people and situations through God’s eyes, to know when God needs me to be his messenger of hope and peace. No, it has not been easy! But His mercies are new every morning!

Until He calls me home, and until I see Mama and Samuel again, I will trust Him to guide, sustain, comfort and provide. I can hardly wait to hear Him say, “Well Done!”

“My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him” (Psalm 62:1).

Lord, through our greatest sorrow and pain, your Holy Spirit provides comfort. We cannot understand, but we can rest assured that you know our hearts. God, the Father of our Lord Jesus, sacrificed His only Son so that we might have eternal life and perfect healing in Heaven. Thank you for the life of this precious child, Samuel, and for the peace you gave to his mother – a peace that is beyond human understanding. In Jesus' name, Amen.