Our theme for the month of June is “spirits.”

I had a very difficult month of May. It was full of unexpected challenges and situations with unknown resolutions. It was in the aftermath that I first saw a gray kitten on my front porch.

A gray kitten, soft and probably only a few weeks old, was sitting in an empty flower pot on the ledge of my front porch. Before I could even react, I saw an identical gray kitten chasing a bug across the stained floorboards of the porch. As I ventured quietly closer to the windows, the adventurous rascal kitten left the porch to explore more of what our yard had to offer. In my heart I felt so afraid for him. His brother is still in the flower pot! I thought. Don’t leave him behind! 

I sat down on the chair closest to the window to read my daily devotions, so I could keep an eye on the flower pot kitten. When I opened my eyes at the end of my prayer, he was gone! I stood up and frantically scanned the parts of the porch I could see. I spotted them at the far corner of the porch: the rascal had returned and the flower pot baby had joined him on our abandoned outdoor couch. It started to rain as they cuddled next to each other. 

I sat at the window across from the couch watching their little fuzzy bodies rise and fall with their breath. I ate breakfast and drank a cup of tea and got more and more anxious about where these kittens came from and if they had a home. My husband is allergic to cats and we’re also not quite ready to dive into the responsibility of being cat parents, so you can imagine the stress we were under. 

But thankfully, about an hour and a half after I’d first spotted the kittens, a third identical gray kitten joined them on the couch. He was damp and shivering from the rain, but nestled down to be nice and cozy with his brothers.Then a fourth, decidedly not identical brown striped kitten joined their cuddle puddle. Seeing the litter reunited in what looked like the coziest place on Earth made me cry. They were so small and all they had was each other. Another half hour passed and an adult gray cat came and collected them—Mama Cat. 

After they woke up and all followed Mama Cat across the street into the woods we went out and bought kitten food. We put a Tupperware of food and water on the porch, in a spot that would be visible from a number of windows. And it worked: for the last month, every evening Mama Cat sends her kittens over to our porch to eat dinner. Rather than watching Mad Men, Micah and I peer out our windows to watch their little paws and tails while they eat, listen to the crunching of their little teeth. In my season of unknowns, it is a blessing to have the responsibility of refilling the food bowl every night, of hurrying home from work in time to see them eat. 

I’ve seen a lot of cats recently, especially in these last few weeks since my difficult May. On the phone with my husband, Micah, he told me about a stray cat in our backyard, one with black markings on his face and ears that make him look like he’s wearing a Batman mask. We’ve decided to name him Batman Cat. He often comes to eat from the food bowl during the day. Just last night, Micah and I dropped a bowl of  soup off at our sick friend’s apartment. He happens to have a cat who I got to spend some time petting. It is such a comfort to have a sweet kitten to snuggle with in trying times. 

Someone recently warned me against living in “anticipatory grief.” They were right. In the tumultuous wake of this past May, God has sent me these kittens: something to pour my love into, something to comfort me, and something to keep me in the present. I know over the last month the Holy Spirit has been working overtime to intercede for my broken and bumbling prayers. To also have the physical comfort of watching these kittens play wrestle and learn to climb trees in our backyard has filled my heart with joy, something that I didn’t know could fit into a time like this. Per the book of Romans, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.”

Note: this post has been edited from its original version.

Carlisle Patete

Carlisle Patete (‘22) came to Calvin University from the mountains of North Carolina and graduated with a double major in film & media and creative writing. After brief stints in Los Angeles and Chicago, she now resides in Chattanooga, Tennessee, where she enjoys sweet tea on her front porch and identifying every tree and bird she runs into on any hiking trail.