Cats And Slinkies

Remember that old toy called a Slinky? With it's rows and rows of wire, wound into a cylinder, the thing provided lots of entertainment for a pre-techy kid of the sixties. I think they still make slinkies.

The Slinky could literally walk down stairs, flipping end over end until it reached the bottom.
Slinkies stretch out really long. Then they can be compressed into a small, squat cylinder.

I was over at my son and daughter-in-law's house the other day. They have a cat named Tidus.
Tidus loves to flop down at my feet and beg to be scratched and petted.
He rolls onto his back and stretches into a long cylinder so I can scratch his belly. Then he turns back onto his feet and retracts into a loaf.
It's almost like the cat has no fixed form.
So like a Slinky.
Slinkies and cats are amazing.
Both of them can be manipulated into hundreds of shapes and lengths. Then they spring back into their original form.
They each have a "skeleton" but the bones seems to stretch. Without breaking.
But no matter how the cat or the Slinky moves, the cat is still a cat and the Slinky is still a Slinky.

We humans could learn a thing or two from Slinkies and cats. We should emulate them.
How wonderful for our spirits to be able to stretch, roll, scrunch, flip or twist in order to adapt to the day's needs.
To move according to the call of the Holy Spirit.
No groaning. No breaking.

To stretch upward for our daily scratching and petting.
To roll over and give God an affectionate nuzzle in the morning.
To retract and examine our hearts.
To flip end over end to descend the stairs in order to reach the friend who needs us.
To twist and adapt to unexpected changes in our day.

I'd like a Slinky type of spirit.

"Yet, O Lord, You are our Father.
We are the clay, You are the potter;
we are all the work of Your hand." (Is. 64:8)