Everything is different in the dark.
While that works on a metaphorical level, the literal meaning led to a little bit of havoc the other night. It started when I put a pan on the stove top to heat and then didn't get back to it in time. Smoke started to build up in the kitchen and crept ever closer to the smoke alarm. I turned off the heat and moved the pan, but it kept smoking. So I took it out back, reminding myself to shut the screen so the cats wouldn't get out. Which of course I forgot to do when I went back inside.
Moments later I heard a semi-panicked meow. Jellybean had taken a half dozen tentative steps and then decided he wasn't sure about this whole "outside in the dark" business. I called him and he came happily back in for a handful of treats. He's really not a rebel.
Nilly on the other hand... Nilly saw me coming and hurried down the steps. So, with the screen door now shut so JB wouldn't work up his courage and go outside, I went outside and tried to find a black cat in the dark, while using my most syrupy voice to tell her what a good girl she was (even if she was actually being a brat) all the while frantically praying Nilly would NOT jump the fence.
It didn't take too long to get her back up on the deck, because the dark really isn't that much fun--especially without a brother to pounce on. But once she was up there, she wouldn't let me catch her. She darted out of reach and into the shadows. I sat at the top of the stairs, so she couldn't get back to the yard, and waited. Several times she ran to the screen door to go back inside, but it was closed. I continued to sweet-talk and waited for her to finally come over.
It took longer than it should have. I mean, she wanted inside, and I wanted to take her inside. I've never picked her up and heaved her off a deck or out of the house, so why I was suddenly the boogie man I have no idea. But eventually I nabbed her, and by the time she laid off struggling, we were all back in the house where we belong enjoying cat treats. Well, two of us were. I had wine.
I wonder how often I dart away from God's hand because I want to go in the house...when he's just trying to pick me up and carry me inside for the human equivalent of cat treats. I don't know. But next time I feel a nudge and I'm tempted to hide behind the grill until I figure out how to get past the screen door, I hope I'll be smarter than a cat and just come to Him already.