Cats’ bellies are a vulnerable spot for them. They guard their underside carefully, and at first, they don’t let anyone touch them for any reason in that tender spot. I had to learn this the hard way from Baxter. He loved to be petted and brushed from when he first arrived in my house, but when I went to pat his stomach, he reacted. He cried, flipped over and ran away. It took a long time for him to trust me enough to expose his sensitive underside to any touch, much less, a brush’s bristles. However, in time, Baxter softened. He began to trust that I wouldn’t take advantage of him or hurt him. He came to appreciate a simple pat on the stomach or the gentle stroke of a brush to remove the loose, downy white hair there. Now, he voluntarily rolls over from time to time to get a little scratch or gentle rub to assure him that everything is right with the world for the moment.
We all have our vulnerable spots. It may be those places in our personality that we feel inadequate. It may be those jobs we don’t like to do or don’t do well. It may be certain subjects. Maybe it’s death, our own or another’s; maybe it’s our marriage or our children’s relationships; maybe it’s certain secrets we hold about the past or present activities. Whatever it might be, there are things in our lives we feel uncomfortable talking about, looking at directly or revealing to anyone, even ourselves. When they come up, we quickly push them aside, change the subject, leave the scene or snarl a remark that signals to anyone present, “Get away!” We protect our tender spots.
Privacy is a good quality in this world of total disclosure on Youtube or Facebook. Not everyone needs or deserves to know everything about us. We protect what we cherish, and we harbor precious feelings by holding them close and sharing them only with the most trusted family and friends. Here is where God comes into the picture. Can we trust God enough to expose the most private, tender and vulnerable aspects of our lives to His grace and mercy? It may not be easy at first. We may think we don’t measure up to what we should be as believers and faithful followers. So we hide our underside from divine consolation and help. We craft our sin to be acceptable. We pose our weakness to be normal. We mask our insecurity with bravado and bully strength. We never admit, either to ourselves or our God, the deeper desires we hold, some bright and hopeful, and others dark and despairing.
We dream of happiness in our later years and for our children’s lives. We hope for a world of peace. We enjoy the beauty of creation and the sparkle in a child’s eyes. We seek revenge for hurts and rejections. We envy others’ good fortunes. We desire pleasures that are beyond our reach and gratifications that twist our relationships and pervert their growth. All of these hidden dimensions are the stuff of prayer. Light and dark, positive and negative, sprung from grace and sprung from sin, we bring these desires to prayer to magnify their goodness and to deflate their evil through the love of God for us. Prayer is like rolling over and allowing God to touch the tender spots we hide from daily and common view. Through it, we learn to trust that God will not take advantage of our vulnerability to harm us, but will bless it to become the instrument to save us. When we can allow God to touch our tender spots, we know a bond has formed which cannot be broken.
