My cat is completely contented about 98% of the time. My cat does nothing. Zelda (blame my son for the name) literally sits and stares, grooms her nether regions, sleeps, eats, and starts all over again. She has no concern about productivity, what anyone thinks of her, or what will happen tomorrow. Zelda does not brood with resentment over our leaving her last week for 6 days or the time I accidentally stepped on her. She lives totally in the present and is totally at peace. Except when that naughty orange cat from next door shows up in Zelda’s own backyard; that warrants wrathful hissing for a minute or two, then return to serenity.
Zelda loves my company. She sits on my desk or the table beside me, follows me around the yard when I am planting or weeding, and loves most of all to curl up on my lap in the evening preferably with a roaring fire. She is unperturbed when I dump her off my lap to get up, and merely returns a few minutes later, all forgiven.
Zelda has no expectations.
So, do I want to be like my cat? Yes and no. I do want to be peaceful with doing nothing, just contemplating the world and all that God has made. I do wish I didn’t worry about yesterday, today or tomorrow. That sounds nice. I do want to forgive freely because why not? What is the possible use of not forgiving? We find forgiveness difficult because we expected we would be treated better. My sweet cat is not burdened with entitlement. I think I could learn a thing or two.
Most of all I want her contentedness. She’s perfectly okay with being a cat. It never occurred to her to be anything else. That sounds about right too.
But, God did not make me a cat, he made me myself. So, I get to do a lot more than a cat does. I get to have greater adventures, challenges, relationships, love, and also pain, disappointment, and sorrow. So contentment is a bit more challenging for me as a human.
Good thing I have Zelda around to remind me.