My teenager has a cat. (You may have seen his "Paws" videos.) He has discovered that cats are odd creatures. They sleep lightly, prowl frequently, and attack people who aren't paying attention to them. Apparently, cats think their owners are cats as well, and they are baffled by their people's un-cat-like behavior. Cats do not understand why people sleep so deeply and so long. They do not understand people's absolute faith that they will be safe through the night, without any real attempts to patrol the home at regular intervals. And why are people always so mad when they get tagged? After all, who doesn't love a good scuffle in the morning? People.
Cats, I am told, exhibit anxiety during the night because they believe their people are dead. That is the only [cat] logical explanation for their people's behavior. Once their people are awake, they leap on their people with the same overwhelming joy with which Mary Magdalene met our Lord on Easter Morning. She just couldn't help herself. Neither can our cat.
There are moments when I think, maybe I am dead. Maybe something is wrong, and I need let Jesus fix it. Maybe it is time to reconcile with my past, go to confession, and be raised to new life in Christ.
When he entered, He said to them, "Why this commotion and weeping? The child is not dead; she is asleep." ... He took the child by the hand and said to her, "Talitha koum!" which means: "Little girl, I say to you, arise!" Immediately the girl, a child of twelve, got up and began to walk around. Mk 5: 39,41