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hiding out loud

i will be the first to admit that the types and symbols in Scripture sometimes escape me.

the throne, for instance, is not a good picture for me.

i have sat in very uncomfortable wooden pews being taught about the "throne."

"come BOLDLY to the throne of grace!" i am encouraged.

does anyone else feel conned here?

it feels like they're saying, "come SWINGING A STICK to the hornets' nest!"

it feels arrogant and unwise to be bold in front of His throne.

as often happens, my pets began teaching me about this on the fourth.

i came home to ear-splitting peeps coming from the living room.

under the footstool in front of my chair were a kitten and mom-cat.

sometime in the next half hour, there were two kittens and the mom.

this, first of all, is a pain in the rump.

i can't move the stool without the fear of squashing them.

i am paranoid to put my feet down since the little furry boogers crawl out a ways.

so i started wondering why all the kittens are born around my chair.

wanna know why? do ya? huh? do ya?

i thought you'd never ask.

it's the safest place for the kittens.

five cats have the brains of mud.

they chase each other up to the second floor and down to the basement.

they jump off chairs and land on the dog.

sometimes it's like playing "dodge the cars" on the freeway.

my chair, however, is off limits for that stuff.

as soon as the kittens are ready, the mom will put them on my chest as i sleep.

for the first couple of months, they will crawl there themselves to sleep.

my arms and chest will look like a smurf pin cushion.

here's the thing i realized.

they feel safe with me and safe from each other at my chair.

i could squash them but they have genetic memory and assurance that i won't.

my chair, my "throne," is the supreme place of safety.

they boldly hide in it, around it, under it because it is where they will survive.

and NOW we are getting to a picture of God's throne i can relate to.

one day i will have this all figured out.