How would God respond to making a mistake? Would planets collide or mountains slide into the sea? Or would the ledger of all life simply remain out kilter until a series of small events forced that ledger back into balance again? It's probably the l...
The very next day, the cat with white whiskers had a fantasti-rama idea. (You can probably guess what it was.)
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"It's dark inside this house," thought the cat with white whiskers. "I should open the door and see if the sun is shining. If it is..."
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Then the cat with white whiskers paused for a moment, licked one of its black paws, and began to think about how beautiful it must be outside the little doghouse.
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There were so many beautiful things to imagine that the cat with white whiskers soon fell asleep.
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For weeks, the two cats took turns falling asleep beside the door. First, it was the cat with black whiskers and then the cat with white whiskers.
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Now that I think about it, it was more than just weeks. It was months or years, but I don't think anybody knows for sure. However long it was, it felt like forever.
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Then one day, a miracle happened.
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It was one of those smallest of all miracles – the kind that gets forgotten as soon as it happens. On that miraculous day, the door finally opened. But it wasn't the white whiskered cat who opened it. And it wasn't the cat with black whiskers either. It was me.
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I was the one who opened the door.
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When I did, I didn't see 2 cats in the doghouse. I saw only one. I saw one very frightened cat that was all black. It had beautiful black stripes, black spots, and amazing black swirls. (I never thought to look at the whiskers.)
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As I reached out, the cat looked frightened at first. Then I heard it purr and say, "I've been waiting forever. I was wondering when you'd come."
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At the time, it did feel like forever, but it was never that long. Because nothing is always.
