Voices blared from the TV, jolting me awake. I sat up, rubbed the crick in my neck. What time was it? Eleven-thirty p.m. Shoot! I can’t believe I fell asleep on the couch! I had a job interview first thing in the morning. I’d had many since being downsized seven months before, but none had panned out.
After spending all day researching the company and prepping for the interview, I’d turned on the TV just for a quick break. All I could do now was get Déjà and go to bed. I couldn’t show up for the interview bleary-eyed. I had to be at my best–better than my best.
Déjà, my tortoiseshell cat, acted more like a dog. She came when called, loved snuggling in my lap, retrieved toys on command, even played fetch. But her favorite activity was “night patrol.”
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In my neighborhood, the yards are connected by block walls. At night Déjà would stroll along the tops of those walls, policing everyone’s patios for mice and other desert varmints.
I walked outside. “C’mon, Déjà!” I called softly, not wanting to wake the neighbors. I listened for the jingle of her tag. Nothing.
“Come on, girl! It’s almost midnight!” I said, a bit impatiently. Still no sign. This wasn’t like her. I peered into the pitch-black night. What if she was hurt? Trapped somewhere, alone and afraid?
I knew how that felt. Each week that passed without a paycheck, my bank balance dwindling, each day that I wondered how much longer I could pay my mortgage, I felt more alone, more afraid.
Seven months earlier I had been the communications director for a commercial contractor. Interesting work, friendly colleagues–it was a good job and I was grateful.
I didn’t mind the long hours or commute, but coming home to a dark, empty house wasn’t so great. So when my niece moved to Oregon and I inherited Déjà, I thought it was an answer to prayer. We bonded instantly.
I’d had Déjà a couple of weeks when my company reorganized and I was out of a job. My new job became finding another job. I must have sent out two hundred résumés. I tried to stay positive. Lord, lead me to the right opportunity, I asked. And close every door you don’t want me to walk through.
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I just never expected there to be so many closed doors! “You’re our top candidate,” I was told at one interview. When I didn’t hear back, I called only to find out they’d decided not to fill the position.
Another company kept me hanging for three months. “It was a tough choice,” the HR director finally told me. “You were our runner-up.”
Thank goodness for Déjà. I could always count on her to make me smile. Sometimes, I’d collapse on the couch, worn out from anxiety, and she’d jump in my lap, snuggle close and purr. What would I do without her?
“Déjà! Can you hear me?” I called.
This time I heard a low cry in the distance. I grabbed a flashlight and climbed my stepladder to look over my back wall. I moved the light around, trying to shine it in every dark corner. Finally, the beam caught the flash of my cat’s eyes…on a roof five houses away.
I ran to the house where she was stranded. She was crouched on the side of the roof that faced the backyard.
“Walk along the roof,” I coaxed, but she wouldn’t budge. For me to reach her I’d have to trespass on my neighbors’ property. Could I do that without waking them up? What if they thought was a burglar? I raced home, threw my flashlight and ladder in my SUV and drove back to my neighbors’.
I managed to stay out of their yard by shining the light along the edge of the roof, blazing a path. Déjà followed it like a champ, up to the top of the roof and down the other side. A few feet from me, right at the roof overhang, she stopped in her tracks. Her eyes darted fearfully.
Then she gave a piteous cry that just about broke my heart. No choice but to use the ladder. I opened it a few feet from the overhang and climbed as quietly as I could. As soon as Déjà saw that I was at her level, she leaped into my arms, burying her head in my neck. Phew!
I finally went to bed around two o’clock, Déjà beside me. Only four hours before I had to get up for my job interview.
I knew the interview didn’t go as well as it would have if I’d gotten more sleep. Three days later, I got an e-mail–they’d selected another candidate. I can’t say I was surprised. Still, my heart sank. Now what? How will I keep my house? When will this end? This time even Déjà’s snuggling couldn’t make me feel better.
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That Sunday, I walked into church more dejected than ever. The band was playing. I slid into a pew and closed my eyes. Suddenly I pictured Déjà stuck on the roof in the dark of night. The music faded, and I heard a voice, strong and calming.
Beloved, do you remember when Déjà couldn’t find her way to you? Do you remember her fear?
I nodded. “Yes, Lord.”
Just as your flashlight guided her to safety, my Word is a lamp unto your feet, he said. No matter how frightened you are, what kind of trouble you’re in, or how far you have to jump, I will never leave you or forsake you.
I opened my eyes. Afraid? Not as much anymore. Alone? I never had been.
Not long after that, I landed an interview with a manufacturing company in the health-care industry. The night before, I asked the Lord to open the door to this opportunity if it was the right one for me. I also asked him to close the patio door and keep Déjà safely inside.
I got a good night’s sleep and was at my best in the interview. Better than my best. Within 24 hours, I was hired.
