I absolutely love my cat.
Yes, I know, the Joneses have three cats. I love all of our cats, but when I say "my cat" I mean a specific cat which shares her existence with us. Zechariah Malachi Jones' plane of existence began coinciding with mine on March 6th, 2002. She likes to jump onto my shoulder, lay stretched-out next to her canine boyfriend, and run around our shared residence talking to her favorite toy.
I almost lost Zachy-Pooh in November. Oh, God is merciful; it would have broken my heart. I'll tell that story some time.
As I got up today, I spent some time in the living room, meditating and praying. Zechariah came to me for the affection that I so freely lavish upon her. I looked at Zachy today and, as always, love filled my heart. She is precious to me, and I enjoy being interrupted by her as she boldly approaches me, seeking my attention and my affection.
Zachy-Pooh is a cat. She does not understand the complexities of my behavior or my thoughts. What she is assured of is my undying love for her, and how my every action towards her is for her benefit. Zechariah trusts me with her well-being.
Yet, just as Zachy-Pooh will never truly understand me, I will never understand God. Yet I am assured of His thoughts toward me are to give me a future and a hope. And that, as Gandalf said in the LOTR, is a comforting thought.