Oh Lady, You must shake Your head at me sometimes, smiling fondly the way a parent does while watching a stumbling child. I never mean to doubt You, truly I don’t. It’s just that the world is a big place, a scary place, a cruel place. I can hardly bear to let any of Your children out of my arms when I know what dangers await them beyond my home; predators, poisoning, abuse, sickness, abandonment… I try not to let the endless possibilities run through my mind but it’s so hard when I know what my own species is capable of. I can’t help but think I can protect each tiny kitten if I just keep them forever. But that isn’t Your wish, is it? You don’t send Your children my way so I can shelter them from the world; You send them to me so I may help them grow, learn, heal, and then pass them on to their destined homes. I know You are teaching me many things in this process: patience; surrender; acceptance; trust. I know I must trust You to watch over Your children when I no longer can, and trust You to know to whom they truly belong. Like a parent sending their child off to college, I must trust I have done my part in preparing them for the world beyond my door. These little ones aren’t mine to keep – they belong to others out there, to children like themselves who will love and grow with them for many years. I know that’s right. I know that’s how it should be. And I do trust You. Forgive me when I stumble, Lady. If I fear too greatly, it is only because I love Your children so greatly as well.