Fred Craddock tells about a family that was taking a lovely Sunday afternoon drive, when suddenly the children began shouting, "Stop the car! There's a kitten by the road!"

The father kept on driving, but his children wouldn't quiet down. He tried to reason with them. The kitten was probably someone's pet. It might have a disease. The family already had too many pets.

It did no good. The children insisted that a loving father would stop the car for a stray cat. So finally the father drove back to the spot and reached for the scraggly kitten. The ungrateful little beast scratched him! Fighting an instinct to strangle the kitten, the father packed it into the car and took it home.

Once at home, the children created a bed for the kitten out of their softest blankets. They fed the kitten droppers full of milk. They petted and fussed over the kitten. Soon, the kitten was purring and rubbing on family members, especially the father, as if he were its best friend.

The father looked at the scars on his hand left by the frightened and ungrateful kitten. Then he looked at the comfortable, well-fed kitten rubbing against his leg. Had he suddenly become more worthy of love? No. His intentions toward the cat had always been to do it good, not harm. Something had happened to the kitten that made it feel secure, loved, accepted.

How often does God try to bless us? And how often do we respond by scratching God's hand?