The minute I walked into the house I heard crying. Loud, desperate crying that became more insistent as the minutes passed. Louder and more frantic.
I couldn’t take it. It would drive me mad to sit and listen to it for hours and do nothing. I knew at some point it would stop, but how long would it take, and what would the resulting silence mean? What was wrong? Where were these pleas for help coming from? What could I do?
The farmhouse we lived in was old. The back porch extended the width of the house, and based on its simple wood-framed construction, you could see it had been added years after the house was built. The basement was very rustic--a “Michigan basement.” Cement floor, stone and dirt walls 3/4 of the way up, then a cement shelf at the top of the walls extending 3 feet deep to the foundation of the house. Very dirty, damp, and undesirable.
It was Sunday and we had just returned home from church. The moment we walked into the old back porch; we heard the crying. It was the distraught meows of a cat.
Dad was unconcerned and figured it would find a way out of its situation like most animals did. He ignored the incessant meowing and read his newspaper. Meanwhile, I became more desperate with each minute that passed. I needed to help the cat--wherever it was. I loved my cats and wasn’t about to let one suffer or die while I sat listening to its cries.
The meowing was louder in the back porch, so Mom and I thought maybe it had crawled underneath and was trapped in some way or was hurt and unable to get itself back out. With no way to get under the porch from outside, we went to the basement to look for a possible way in.
Up on the filthy cement shelf we saw an old window built into the foundation which opened to the space under the porch. It was small-- no more than 14 inches tall and 30 inches wide. We propped it open and shined the flashlight into the dirt floored, spider-webbed space. It seemed safe enough, and we heard the cat’s cries louder than ever. It was definitely here, but where? We both managed to wiggle through the window and belly-crawl toward her yowling. When we found her, my heart sank.
She had fallen into an old well. Ten or more feet down, she sat on an old, rotted board to stay dry from the small amount of water remaining at the bottom. She looked up at us, meowing intensely and raising a paw as if to say, “get me out of here!”
Mom and I looked at each other. How would we get her out? We couldn’t climb down, and it was obvious she couldn’t climb out. We decided to lower a container of some kind in the hope she’d get in. It seemed impossible. How do you get a cat to jump into a pail? But we had to try.
Mom found an old tomato basket and tied rope at equal points on all four sides to keep it from tipping. Slowly we lowered the basket toward the cat. It was like she knew her rescue was at hand. Before it even reached her, she was standing on hind legs and jumping for it. Amazingly, when it reached her, she jumped right in! Both pleased and surprised, we slowly began to pull her up. The basket swung side to side with her gentle movements, and the closer it got to the top, the more we could see her positioning herself to jump out. While we considered what to do if she jumped too soon and fell down again, she made her grand leap without hesitation, and landed on the solid ground next to us. She was free! Once out, she allowed me a few quick hugs, then scrambled to make her exit from under the porch to daylight once again.
Before leaving the underbelly of the porch, mom and I dragged a few old boards we found and covered the well opening. No one needed a repeat of this adventure.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Life can deal harshly with us at times. We fall into an “old well” that traps us. It’s dark, lonely, scary, and with what appears to have no way out.
Depression. Grief. Anxiety. Fear. Confusion. Anger. It can be difficult to get out of the pit we find ourselves in. But there is HOPE.
There are lessons to be learned from the cat in the well.
1. When you are in trouble, cry for help.
This can be difficult, especially when there is perceived embarrassment or shame. You don’t need to broadcast your need to everyone, but find a trusted friend, counselor, or Christian you can share with. It may be hard but ask God to lead you to the right person. He will do it. He did it for me.
2. Keep crying until someone hears you and responds.
Some people will walk past because they can’t hear you. Issues of their own keep their ears closed to the cries of others. Some people will hear you but ignore you. For whatever reason, they can’t or won’t become involved. Don’t be offended. They aren’t the right person to help you. Others will hear you, but not know what to do to help. Keep crying until someone who CAN help arrives. That person is out there. Hold on until they arrive.
3. Getting help can take time.
Sometimes we have to wait for the right person to arrive to help. Sometimes the right tools need to be found. Don’t give up. God’s timing is perfect. He’s never late.
4. Find helpers who are laying on solid ground; the solid ground of Biblical truth.
Just as my mom and I laid on our bellies on the ground to provide stability in raising the cat, so someone who is grounded in God’s word can offer stability as you are lifted out of your well. When the cat jumped out of the well, she landed on solid ground. Biblical truths will land you on solid ground, too.
5. Once you are healed, cover the past so you don’t fall in again.
Don’t go back and revisit. It’s done. Live in the present.
Be like my friend the cat. Keep crying until you get help, then once you are free, cover the past and walk out into your newfound freedom.
Beautiful!
ReplyDelete