What God as Father Means to Me: A Personal Testimony

2 Corinthians 1:3: “The Father of mercies and God of all comfort.”

Since the age of 16, I have walked a path shaped by the relentless shadows of chronic migraine and Fibromyalgia. For much of that journey, the world looked at my invisible pain and labeled me a hypochondriac, dismissing the very real agony I endured. Yet, in the quietest, darkest moments—when I would curl into a ball to hide from the world or cry out for the release of death—God was there. He did not remain distant; He was the God of all comfort who knew the depth of my struggle and held me through every storm.

His comfort often arrived in the most humble, furry forms. My very first cat, Matilda—a grey and white tabby with beautiful tiger stripes—became my reason for living. She loved me unconditionally on my worst days, a silent witness to the Father’s grace. Later, she was joined by Tituba, Mr. Boots, and a Boston Terrier named Bogey as we moved to Kentucky.

As my health declined to the point where traditional work was no longer possible, God led me in His uniquely loving way to a new calling: opening a Cat Rescue. What began with a plan to stop at 12 cats transformed during the plandemic into the Crazy Cat Sanctuary and Black Cat Rescue. Today, we provide a haven for nearly 50 residents, including seniors, abuse survivors, and “canary cats” with complex health issues.

When the weight of my own illness makes me want to give up, the very cats God supplied give me the strength to keep going. This is what God as Father truly means: He is not a distant figure, but a real DAD. He is the one who spoils me with grace and mercy, the one who hugs me on the bad days and plays ball with me on the good days. Through the sanctuary, He has turned my pain into a mission of healing, showing me that even broken angels can learn to soar again.