Fluffball, my cat, is chasing butterflies in the backyard while I sit on the deck in the sunshine reading a book. It’s one of the first really nice days of spring and I love being out here, letting the timid rays of sun warm my body. Just last week there were still small piles of melting snow scattered across the yard. With the warmer weather we’ve had the last few days, the snow is gone and spring looks hopeful.

I focus on my book and read a few pages. Actually, a few pages progresses to a few chapters. Just to sit and loaf for a while is such a rare treat. Peace in my life feels unattainable these days. Sitting here in the sun, with my feet resting on top of another chair, which I’ve pulled up for just that purpose, is the only peace I’ve felt in a long while.

So many things in my mind have gone wrong in the last year. Some of the items have been totally out of my control and were reasonably traumatic. Other issues I struggle with are tied to my emotions – how I’m coping with all the dark changes.  I’m tired of the constant drama and need some tranquility for a change.

After being absorbed in my book, for I don’t know how long, I look up to check on Fluffball. He isn’t anywhere in sight. I sit forward and whistle for him. He doesn’t come running like he habitually does. My whistle is usually a solid guarantee of coaxing him to my side. He responds to me like no other pet I’ve ever owned. He knows my voice and I’d recognize his scratchy meow anywhere. Concern floats through my heart.

He’s been my pet for nearly ten years and we’re close. Fluffball stays indoors most of the time but on odd days like today I give him more leeway. Being outside and chasing bugs is one of his great joys and I’m happy to oblige. Chewing on the snow-free grass is also one of his favorite things out here. The only drawback on that activity is the hairballs I have to wipe off the floor afterwards.

I whistle once more but he still doesn’t make an appearance. I eye the fence line, expecting him to appear from the opposite side. I try to push the worried thoughts away. Fluffball has always been fine out here, even the times he chose to jump over the fence for a bit. There are no dogs close to us, at least none that would harm Fluffy.

Reading another chapter doesn’t tempt me anymore and worrying about Fluffy doesn’t seem beneficial. I’m sure he’ll be back soon. My mind drifts to the cause of my weary heart and my tired brain. That I’ve survived it all is a testament to the resiliency of being human but I’m not sure if I’m the same person anymore. Some adaptation took place inside me through it all.

One of my best friends died almost a year ago now, killed by a drunk driver. That set me into a tailspin of questioning everything I once believed. My heart still hurts every time I think of her. I miss her so much and probably always will. To live without her, without enjoying her sense of humor, the support we gave each other and the close camaraderie we shared, still seems too much to bear. The anniversary of her passing is coming up quickly and it only makes her death feel so much more real and recent. I can’t force thoughts of her away even if I tried. Memories of our times together march through my mind like soldiers on a mission.

I place a hand over my heart. There’s a dull ache there that’s acting up again. I find it hard to breathe when my thoughts dwell on her too much but how can I not, having shared life together?

Two months after my friend’s death, my mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer. The disease progressed quickly. She only lived six weeks. Six short weeks was not enough time to say goodbye to the one who gave birth to me, the one I’d known my entire life and the one that loved me like no one else could. I’d lost a prayer covering when my mother passed away. One thing she knew and that was how to pray! Thinking of her now makes my heart ache even more and it’s hard to hold back tears. A few trickle down my cheeks. I’m tired of crying. I’ve wept enough to fill Lake Erie three times over.

Those things combined would be enough to chalk up my year to the most horrific of my life but there’s more. Friends I’d known for a long time started ignoring and avoiding me. At first I thought they just didn’t know what to say to all my loss but as the months went on, and with no effort on their part to connect, I realized I’d lost more friends. Maybe I was difficult to be with. I wasn’t exactly a ball of laughs after what I’d been through. Constant soul searching and sorrow had changed me. I’ve become very contemplative. The friends who used to initiate time with me no longer show any interest. If I don’t suggest a get together, it never happens. I don’t bother anymore.

I don’t go out much. After work I prefer staying at home. I know what it is that drives me to seclusion; being alone feels safer somehow. Allowing myself to feel what I feel without making others uncomfortable is more preferable than putting on a show. I’m so tired of trying to look happy in front of others when I feel so worn and weary inside, telling people I’m doing great when inside I’m crumbling. The despair and sorrow in my heart are constant reminders of how awful a year I’ve had.

Get over it, that’s what people tell me sometimes, that it’s time to get over it and live. How can I live when some of my favorite people in this world are gone? The ones that I still love but have rejected me are also gone in my mind. I mean, I am living, but it doesn’t feel like living. It feels like I’m slowly dying from the inside out.

I don’t know how to change what I feel. I’ve cried out to God so many times for relief that I’ve lost count. Sometimes it feels like he’s abandoned me too. He could take all this pain away, so why doesn’t he? Why does he let me suffer like this? I feel so alone in this world.

I know those thoughts are lies. I know better than to dwell on the negative. God promised to never leave me, never forsake me. I know what the Bible says about how great his love is toward me, that he calls me his child and that his love will never fail me. He gave up his only son, Jesus, to die for me. Just knowing that Jesus bore my sorrow and my diseases on the cross doesn’t seem to penetrate my pain.

I know my loved ones aren’t gone, they’ve just relocated and they’re in a better place. I’ve heard all the typical churchy rhetoric. The simple truths I’ve grown up with don’t help me now, they don’t penetrate through all the distress I feel or bring me any joy. I’m still drowning in my losses and the pain.

If God’s promise is true, that nothing can separate me from His love, why do I feel so unprotected and vulnerable? Why does it feel like I’m completely exposed and sure that something else is about to happen to make my load even heavier? I feel cursed and not blessed. On top of that I feel terrible even thinking it, but I’m being honest with myself.

A familiar meow invades my soul searching and I look up to see Fluffball balancing on the top of the fence. With a stealthy pounce, he leaps down into my yard and comes toward me.

Relief floods me at the sight. “Fullfball! You made it back,” I say, stating the obvious.

He takes the steps up to the deck, comes up to me and rubs his full, hairy body against my leg. I reach down to stroke him and welcome him back. I notice something stuck in his long hair. I pick it off and hold it up. It’s a long white feather. It makes me wonder what he’s been up to. Did he enjoy a bird snack on the other side of the fence? I can’t remember seeing a bird with such massive feathers though. This would have had to come off of one extra large fowl.

“What have you been up to, Fluffball?”

He meows back. I surmise that he picked it up in the alley somewhere, just a random feather that had gotten there somehow.

Fluffball wanders off into my yard to chase another bug and I hold up the feather to study it.

Something white appears in my peripheral vision just above me, to the left, and I look over to see what it is. It’s a white feather, a second one, and it’s floating down beside me. I watch as it finally settles on the deck boards beside my chair. It’s identical to the one I still hold in my hand.

“Where did that come from?” I say to no one in particular.

Before I can even process the meaning or source of the second feather, I see another form out of the corner of my eye. I look to my right and see another white feather floating down to the wooden patio. It comes to rest beside me and I notice, again, that it’s identical to the one I have in my grasp.

This now has my attention. I don’t know what’s happening but I turn in my chair and look up to see if there’s a bird sitting on my roof-line. There’s nothing there. Goosebumps form on my arm even with the sun’s rays warming me.

I sit back in my chair and study the feather. It’s pure white with not a speck of dirt or variance in color throughout.

Hesitatingly I ask, “God, what’s going on?”

A verse pops into my head. I recognize it from Psalm 91. I read it just a few days ago and, oh, how I wished then that I could feel this secure. ‘For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.’

I haven’t really felt protected or guarded. I’ve felt exposed and attacked.

My heart rate picks up as I realize the significance of it. His angels are surrounding me. They are shielding me whether it feels that way or not. And I am blessed even though it feels like the curse has overtaken me.

Tears trickle down my cheeks again as I contemplate what a substantial experience this is. He knows. He knows it all even without me saying a word and He cares enough to declare it to me in such an unconventional way. I suddenly feel warm inside but it has nothing to do with the sun’s rays shining down on me. The firm knowing suddenly invades my heart that I’m loved and protected. Peace surrounds me. It feels strange. I’ve felt so little of it for so long. It feels like rain falling on dry, thirsty ground and my heart soaks it up willingly.

Comprehending that He sees me, knows the condition of my heart and loves me enough to show me breaks through all the turmoil and deposits comfort where no comfort has been in a long, long while.