His name is Oliver…at least I think

My last post was over a year ago. My, oh my, how things have changed. It seems like only yesterday I found myself in awe of the white wonder falling from the skies and now I’m here preparing for my third winter in the valley. This time last year, I was finding my footing in a small cafe by the river, and now I manage it. Do you ever stop and wonder how you got to where you are? How it all fell into place? Do you ever wonder, knowing how fast time passes and knowing how quickly life changes its course, where you’ll be this time next year?

I know I do.

At this moment, there are many changes taking place. Many adventures to come and many already taking place.

I’d like to talk about one in particular. The new love of my life. The wonderful whiskered ball of fur that has warmed his way to my heart. His name is Oliver…at least I think.

Let me explain.

For some time now, I have been looking to get my very own cat. I’m not entirely sure why, seeing as though I am slightly allergic. But once an idea hits me, if it’s any good, it sticks with me until I fulfill it. So I kept it hidden in the back of my mind, until one day when a friend of mine told me the cat her family was fostering had just had kittens. I went to visit, and that was all it took. One little guy in particular struck my fancy. This one. Right here.

I got the call this time last week and was told he was ready to come home. So I hopped in my car and went to the store. I bought all kinds of things I’ve never even looked at before. Toys, food, litter, more toys. After arranging everything to my liking in our spare bedroom (yes, he has his own room), my lovely roommate and I made our way to pick him up. The papers were signed, the adoption complete and we took him back to his new home. Then the question came.

What the heck do I name him?

Now of course I had ideas. As many know, I love all things Harry Potter and all things Narnia. So naturally, I looked for names within their pages. I came up with a few: Albus, Nox, Shasta, Potter, Weasley, Hedwig, Mr. Tumnus…I even thought about just calling him Narnia, giving me the excuse to go to the store simply to get things “FOR NARNIA!!!!”…

But none seemed to fit. Then we realized his love for music. His whole demeanor would change when music played, even lulling him to sleep on occasion (a rare occurrence). So the theme of names changed to Mozart, Bach, and finally Whitacre. I felt so certain Whitacre was the one! Call him Whit for short while he’s little, but leaving room for him to be a sophisticated and dapper old cat one day. So the name stuck…for a day.

In the midst of all of these, something kept happening. The original name I had always thought of, but thought was too generic, was Oliver. My mom would freak if I named my kid that one day, so why not a cat? But I wanted his name to mean something! To be in reference to something. So I tried, I really did, but every now and then, without thinking at all, I would call him Oliver. Not really noticing it until having it pointed out to me. So I finally gave up and went with my gut.

His name shall be Oliver.

On a happy coincidence, the character who taught our dear Mr. Potter how to play Quidditch is named Oliver Wood. So if anyone asks, yes he is named after Harry Potter.

I’m sure there will many posts to be written about my little friend. He’s too crazy and sporadic and sweet and loving not to want to write about.

In all of this, I am reminded of God’s sovereignty. Wait, what? I know…my super smooth subject change just blew your mind. Please stay with me.

The timing of Oliver’s coming into my life could not have been more perfect. Underneath the excitement and smiles I put forth, there is much more going on. That is another post for another day. But after all the thoughts of taking him home before he was even born and all the waiting I did once I knew he would be mine, I never could have expected the circumstances in which I would be taking him home in. But God did. He knew what waited for me. He knows the the ins and outs of my life, past, present and future. Most importantly he knew I would need a snuggler, a cuddler, someone who needs me to take care of him and love him despite whatever else is going on. God takes care of his children. Whether it be in the form of water in the desert, a compliment on your worst day, or a kitten swatting at your hair when you’re about to fall apart. He’s looking out for us in the smallest of ways while he takes care of the bigger picture.

Our God is great. Truly he is. I look forward to keeping up with this blog once again. We’ll see how long it lasts. Hopefully for some time. So to the two people out there reading this, it’s going to be a ride. Like I said, many adventures to come. I’m not sure if I’m ready, but they are inevitable. I’ll be trusting God along the way and willing to share in the adventure with those who care to come along. Are you ready?