Posted in Family Stories

Natasha Romanov: Black Widow Kitty

I have another confession to make.

I never wanted a cat.

My mom never wanted a cat either.

In fact, she was very clear on the subject. Cats belonged somewhere else—outside, with someone else, preferably far away from her house.

And yet…

Somewhere along the way, we became a cat family.

Because sometimes God has a wonderful sense of humor.

A Little Natasha History

Natasha Romanov is her full name.

Yes, she is named after the Marvel character.

Yes, there’s a story behind that.

Originally, Natasha belonged to my aunt. As a tiny kitten, she was known as Lightning, and she had a personality that lived up to her name.

Unfortunately, she also came equipped with very sharp claws.

And she loved climbing people’s legs.

For most people, that would simply be startling. But my aunt was diabetic and had very little feeling in her legs, making those surprise climbing expeditions a genuine safety concern.

The problem?

Everyone had already fallen in love with her.

Lightning was family.

So we had to find another solution.

At the same time, my daughter Shelby was struggling. She had returned home after leaving college just one semester in and was navigating some difficult mental health challenges. She needed something good—something to care for, something that reminded her she was needed.

Lightning became that something.

After several heartfelt conversations (and probably a little begging), my aunt agreed that Lightning should come live with us.

No dramatic rescue mission.

No permanent fallout.

Just a new home.

Along with her new home came a new name.

Natasha Romanov.

Black Widow Kitty.

Named after Shelby’s favorite superhero.

And honestly?

The name couldn’t fit her better.

Natasha has always carried herself with a little mystery, a little attitude, and just enough confidence to ensure everyone understands exactly who’s in charge.

(For the record, it’s her.)

The Great Percy-Natasha Treaty

Before Natasha could officially assume command of the household, there was one rather important introduction to make.

Percy.

Thankfully, Shelby had enough common sense to know you don’t simply toss a cat and a dog into the same room and hope for the best.

There were weeks of slow introductions.

Lots of sniffing.

Watching.

Staring.

Judging.

Eventually, they negotiated what I can only describe as an international peace treaty.

Are Percy and Natasha best friends?

Not even close.

Do they cuddle?

Absolutely not.

Do they play together?

Only if silently judging each other from opposite ends of the room counts as recreation.

But they have something even better.

They have an understanding.

A carefully maintained peace agreement that has lasted for years.

They respect each other’s space. They share the same home. And they’ve mutually decided that neither one is worth the effort of starting a full-scale household war.

Honestly?

That’s probably friendship in adult terms anyway.

Percy is the loyal old gentleman.

Natasha is unquestionably the household CEO.

Percy wants to be wherever his people are.

Natasha wants to remind her people that they belong to her.

Percy loudly announces every visitor.

Natasha quietly evaluates whether they’re worthy of entering her kingdom.

Somehow, it works.

The Cat Who Changed Everything

My mom always insisted she’d never own a cat.

That was her line in the sand.

Then her granddaughter looked at her with those pleading eyes.

Funny how quickly grandparents discover their “firm boundaries” are actually quite flexible.

So yes…

That mousetrap eventually found its way into our home.

And Natasha became part of our family.

More importantly, she became a healing balm for Shelby during one of the hardest seasons of her life.

There was something deeply comforting about having a little creature who depended on her. About those quiet evenings when Natasha curled up nearby. About the kind of unconditional love that asks for very little beyond food, affection, and the occasional opportunity to knock something expensive off a shelf.

Thankfully, Shelby is doing so much better today.

Natasha, however, has decided to expand her responsibilities.

She no longer belongs only to Shelby.

She now oversees the entire household.

During the day, she rotates between sleeping in the chair in my room, on Shelby’s bed, or beside Shelby’s computer.

At night?

She transforms into a tiny black ninja.

She patrols the house.

Inspects her kingdom.

Conducts mysterious cat business.

Probably plots world domination.

When my granddaughter Sophia comes to visit, Natasha wisely disappears.

Not because Sophia has ever been unkind.

She hasn’t.

But Natasha understands one universal truth:

One squirmy, drooling, occasionally loud tiny human is manageable.

Two?

Absolutely not.

A cat has standards.

Our Little Black Cat

Natasha was never part of the plan.

Then again, neither was Percy.

Maybe that’s how some of life’s greatest blessings work.

They don’t arrive when we expect them.

They don’t always look like what we imagined.

Sometimes they arrive with four paws, a tail, and an unwavering belief that they’re running the household.

Percy came into our lives when we needed comfort we didn’t know we were missing.

Natasha came into our lives when Shelby needed hope.

Both became family.

They remind me that love doesn’t always arrive in the package we expect.

Sometimes it comes as a scruffy rescue dog who steals your bed.

Sometimes it comes as a tiny black cat who steals your heart—and probably your favorite pen before knocking it onto the floor.

Sometimes God quietly sends us exactly what we need…

Long before we realize we need it.

So our little family carries on.

One loyal old gentleman.

One very confident Black Widow Kitty.

One daughter who found healing.

One granddaughter who believes everyone with ears deserves love.

And the rest of us, happily living under Natasha’s rule while Percy keeps watch.

A little unusual?

Absolutely.

A little chaotic?

Without question.

But it’s home.

And I wouldn’t change a single thing.

Posted in Family Stories

My Pal Percy

I have a confession to make.

I really don’t like having a dog. Or a cat. Or any pet, for that matter.

There. I said it.

It’s not that I dislike animals. I think they’re adorable. I love seeing other people’s pets. I’ll happily admire pictures, laugh at funny videos, and tell someone how cute their furry family member is.

But the daily responsibility? The feeding. The letting out. The barking. The constant “please don’t eat that.” The fact that another living creature depends on me every single day? It’s just not really my thing.

And yet…

I love my boy, Percy.

And I lovingly tolerate my daughter’s cat, Natasha.

Because sometimes life has a funny way of giving you something you never thought you wanted and turning it into something you can’t imagine living without.

A Little Percy History

Percy is a Jack Russell Terrier mix. Mixed with what? I have absolutely no idea. He’s a rescue, and honestly, I think that’s part of what makes him so special.

He was found wandering the streets of Chicago’s South Side by a friend of a friend’s husband. We know he’d been abused, although we’ll probably never know exactly what happened to him. When he came to us, he was about two and a half years old and had already experienced more than any dog ever should.

But he also found something else.

He finally found safety.

We got Percy as a “trial run” dog.

Yes, you read that correctly.

A trial run.

He was originally supposed to be a companion for my mom. He also had an important second job: serving as our furry back-door alarm system.

For a while, that’s exactly what he was.

Then something happened that none of us expected.

Eight years ago, we lost my mom.

And somehow, Percy chose me.

I don’t really know how else to explain it. After she was gone, he became attached to me. I became his person.

He became My Pal Percy.

Of course, when he first came to live with us, I had rules.

No furniture.

No sleeping in my room.

He had a perfectly good dog bed on the floor.

Percy apparently thought my list was more of a suggestion.

He never climbed onto the furniture while my mom was alive, but somehow we’d always come home to suspiciously warm couch cushions. There was never any eyewitness testimony, but the evidence was overwhelming.

Eventually, he trained me out of that rule.

Then he tackled the bedroom.

I was determined.

“No, Percy. You are not sleeping on my bed.”

Percy disagreed.

He wanted to be in my room—and only my room. After several nights of determined pacing, sighing, and making sure neither of us got much sleep, I finally surrendered.

He won.

He’s been sleeping on my bed ever since.

Honestly, I’m still not sure exactly when the training reversed and I became the one being trained.

The Smartest Little Supervisor

Percy is incredibly smart.

He has different barks for different situations, and believe me, once you’ve lived with him long enough, you know exactly what each one means. His bark has the unique ability to startle you into next Tuesday.

He’s also become the unofficial star of countless Amazon proof-of-delivery photos because apparently no package can be left safely on the porch without his personal supervision.

But my favorite thing about Percy isn’t how smart he is.

It’s that he’s become part of our family’s story.

On February 19, 2025, Percy suddenly found himself competing for my attention.

My granddaughter, Sophia, arrived.

At first, Percy wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this tiny new human. He gave her a good sniff and apparently decided she smelled a little suspicious.

Sophia, on the other hand, was completely enchanted.

She loves petting his ears. She thinks he’s hilarious. They chase each other around the house while she giggles nonstop.

Percy mostly humors her.

Until he’s done.

Let’s remember, he’s almost eleven years old now. When he’s reached his limit, he gives us a gentle growl—a polite little announcement that says, “I’ve enjoyed our visit, tiny human, but I’d now like to resume my regularly scheduled nap.”

Honestly?

I respect that.

He’s patient. He’s gentle.

He’s simply the best boy.

The best dog I’ve ever known.

And he’ll almost certainly be my last dog.

Not because I don’t love him.

But because I know I’ll never find another Percy.

My Pal Percy

I think sometimes God gives us gifts we never think to ask for.

Percy was never on my list.

I wasn’t looking for a dog. I wasn’t hoping for a companion. I certainly wasn’t dreaming about sharing my bed with a fifteen-pound furry alarm clock who believes every Amazon delivery requires his immediate supervision.

But God knew.

He knew I’d need him.

He knew there would be quiet days when grief felt especially heavy. He knew there would be moments when the house seemed too still. He knew I needed a little shadow following me from room to room, a warm body curled up beside me, and countless reasons to laugh.

Love doesn’t always arrive the way we expect.

Sometimes it has four paws.

Sometimes it snores.

Sometimes it steals your spot on the bed.

Sometimes it becomes My Pal Percy.

Someday, I know the hardest part will be saying goodbye. I don’t like to think about that day, so instead I choose to be grateful for today.

For every wagging tail.

Every funny little habit.

Every bark that makes me jump.

Every look that tells me I’m the most important person in his world.

Because to Percy, I am.

And maybe that’s the greatest gift of all.

Not that I rescued him.

But that somewhere along the way…

He rescued me.

Posted in Faith in Real Life

When You Miss the Season You Prayed For

There is a quiet moment that often comes in midlife when we begin looking at our lives a little differently. It is not always because something is wrong. Sometimes it happens because something inside of us has changed. After years of moving through responsibilities, raising families, building careers, and simply doing what needed to be done, we finally have enough space to look around and ask deeper questions.

Did I become the person I thought I would become? Did my life turn out the way I imagined? Am I where I thought I would be by now?

Those questions can bring up so many emotions. Sometimes they fill us with gratitude because we can see how faithfully God carried us through seasons we never thought we would survive. Other times, they bring a sense of sadness because we realize some dreams did not unfold the way we expected.

I think many women quietly carry that feeling.

The grief of the life we imagined.

The career path we thought we would have.

The relationships we hoped would look different.

The version of ourselves we thought we would become.

But one of the greatest lessons God has been teaching me in this season is that the life I planned and the life He created are not always the same thing. And learning to trust Him with that difference has brought a deeper kind of peace than I ever expected.

The Weight of Comparing Our Lives

One of the hardest parts of living in today’s world is that comparison follows us everywhere. We see other people’s accomplishments, homes, careers, vacations, and celebrations, often without seeing the struggles, disappointments, and difficult seasons that exist behind the scenes.

It becomes easy to look around and wonder if we somehow missed something.

Maybe someone else’s life seems more successful.

Maybe someone else appears more settled.

Maybe someone else reached a goal we are still waiting for.

Before we realize it, we begin measuring our lives against someone else’s story instead of appreciating the one God is writing for us.

I have had to remind myself that God never asked me to live someone else’s life. He asked me to faithfully live mine.

Galatians 6:4 says, “Each one should test their own actions. Then they can take pride in themselves alone, without comparing themselves to someone else.”

That verse has become more meaningful to me as I get older because comparison steals our ability to see the blessings right in front of us. When we constantly look at someone else’s path, we miss the beauty of the road God placed beneath our own feet.

Releasing the Dreams That Did Not Happen

One of the most tender parts of midlife is learning how to hold our dreams differently.

Some dreams are still waiting to happen. Some dreams have changed. Some dreams need to be released because God has something different in mind.

That does not mean those dreams were foolish.

It does not mean those desires were wrong.

It simply means God sometimes writes a story that looks different from the one we imagined.

For years, I think many of us believed that if our lives did not follow the plan we created, something had gone wrong. But what if God was not behind schedule? What if He was simply leading us somewhere we could not see yet?

Isaiah 55:8-9 reminds us, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the LORD. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

There is so much comfort in remembering that God sees the entire picture when we only see one small piece.

Finding Peace With the Life You Have Today

One of the greatest gifts of this season has been learning to appreciate the life right in front of me.

Not the perfect life.

Not the imaginary life.

The actual one.

The one filled with answered prayers and unanswered questions. The one filled with beautiful memories and lessons learned through difficult seasons. The one where I still grow, still change, and still need God every single day.

Sometimes we spend so much time waiting for the next season that we forget to notice the one we are living right now.

Psalm 118:24 says, “The LORD has done it this very day; let us rejoice today and be glad.”

This verse reminds me that today is not just a waiting room for tomorrow. Today is a gift. This season matters. This moment matters.

Even the ordinary days that seem small are still part of the story God is creating.

God Is Not Finished Writing Your Story

One of the biggest lies we can believe in midlife is that our best days are behind us.

Maybe life looks different than we imagined. Maybe some doors closed. Maybe some opportunities passed. Maybe certain dreams took a different direction than we expected.

But God does not waste a single season.

He uses everything.

He uses the years we spent raising children.

He uses the years we spent working hard.

He uses the years we spent caring for others.

He uses the years we spent learning, struggling, growing, and starting over.

Every piece of our story matters.

Philippians 1:6 gives us this promise: “Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”

God began a work in you long before this season, and He is still continuing that work today.

You are not finished.

You are still growing.

You are still becoming.

The Freedom of Letting God Lead

I think one of the most freeing things we can do in midlife is loosen our grip on the timeline we created for ourselves.

Instead of constantly asking, “Why didn’t my life happen the way I thought it would?” we can begin asking, “God, what are You showing me in this season?”

That question changes everything.

Because surrender does not mean giving up. Surrender means trusting.

It means believing that God’s plans are not smaller than ours. They are often deeper, richer, and more meaningful than anything we could have created for ourselves.

Jeremiah 29:11 says, “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”

That promise was not only meant for the younger version of ourselves.

It is meant for the woman sitting here today.

The woman who is still learning.

The woman who is still growing.

The woman who is discovering that God is not finished yet.

Learning to Love the Story God Is Writing

Maybe midlife is not about chasing the life we thought we wanted. Maybe it is about finally recognizing the life God has been creating all along.

Maybe the dream was never only about what we accomplished. Maybe it was about who we became along the way.

The woman who learned patience.

The woman who found strength.

The woman who discovered grace.

The woman who realized she does not have to prove her worth because she was already loved by God.

I am learning to stop looking backward at everything I thought should have happened and start looking forward with open hands. The same God who carried me through every chapter before this one is still holding my story today.

And I trust Him with what comes next.

Let’s Keep the Conversation Going

I would love to hear from you. Have you ever found yourself grieving the life you thought you would have? What is God teaching you about trusting Him with the story He is writing?

Share your thoughts in the comments. Your words may encourage another woman who is walking through a similar season.

If this encouraged you, share it with another woman who may need the reminder that her story is not behind her.

God is still writing.