When I was a little girl, I had a cat named Muffin. My mom tells me that my grandma found Muffin under a bridge when she was so tiny she could fit in a muffin tin, thus she earned her name. My grandma bottle fed her until she was old enough for solids, and then Muffin became mine. I remember at night Muffin used to crawl up and suck on my ear, purring loudly. She was taken from her mama too soon. It was okay with me. I was willing to be her mama.
What I remember most about Muffin was that she broke her wrist. She was gone for several days, and then showed up at home with her front paw bent inward. Maybe she was hit by a car? We’ll never know. I don’t really remember discovering the injury because I was so young, but I remember that her paw healed that way. Bent. Always evident where it had been broken.
But it didn’t stop her! My little Muffin just hobbled on the bent wrist. She could even climb trees. What a little trooper. She wouldn’t be held back by being broken. She just healed, and kept on, in spite of being bent. She even raised her own kittens with that bent wrist. She was amazing.
The more women I get to know, the more I realize that every one of us has a story. We all have broken places in our past. I am amazed by what some women have been through. Or are going through right this moment.
Disease. Betrayal. Abuse. Sorrowful childhood. Divorce. Anxiety. Death of a child. Death of a spouse. Financial struggle. Rejection.
And I just want to touch your precious face and look right into your eyes and say, “Just look at you! Look what you have been through, and yet, here you are! Standing tall. Still loving. Still laughing. Getting up each day, contributing to the world. Look at you!”
You’re climbing trees like a champ, even with that little bent wrist.
And I just want to tell every one of you that I’m so proud of you. Thank you for carrying on, and not giving up. When you do that, it inspires everyone around you.
“Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord rises upon you.”