Jacob was such a wonderfully soft, black prayer cat. Perhaps the best in the world. Certainly the best in my 62-year history in this world. As I would settle into my prayer chair, he would quietly, softly leap into my lap. After a few moments of kneading my legs with his claws, he would curl up and stare at me. As I stroked his long, velvety fur, gave him a gentle ear scratch, and rubbed him under the chin, he would begin his purring or prayer.

Hearing his quiet purr, feeling his soft fur, I would begin to relax and sink into the loving arms of my almighty God. That God, who is within and yet infinitely above all the hassles, worries, demands and pains of my world, would stroke my consciousness with his overwhelming, still gently caring, hand. With the power of his touch, all my world is new and I am, for the moment, renewed in ultimate peace and joy.

But then all the restless nervous energy of an ADHD (attention deficit hyperactive disorder) adult sweeps over my scratched and dented world with the never-ending cares, embarrassments, mistakes and worries. Jacob, oh Jacob, how do you serve your Lord and Creator in such peace and love? I also want to be his obedient, loving creature. I stroke Jacob's smooth coat, once and then again. He rouses enough to renew his familiar purr and I refocus on Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.

Once again I am swept into that ultimate, deep chasm of joy and clarity. My body tenses with flow of nervous energy driving for something real to do. This body that he has made me comes through eons of evolutionary wheeling and dealing with genes demanding to survive at all cost. It must be relaxed. Another stroke or two, the purring, and I too can settle down and prolong that moment.

That moment! Is it? Can it be a foretaste of that life after this one? That true life when the breath of his Spirit in me becomes dominant? When this human body, called from swamp and tree to walk erect in his presence, will finally be a willing, loving, purring partner, as I bow down with all creation in worship before him, who was and is and evermore shall be.

Our guest columnist is the Rev. Robert J. Carabin, assistant rector of Christ Church, San Antonio, Texas.