He crawls into my lap when I sit down, his presence announced by the prickle of claws through whatever I am wearing. It takes a while to settle in and he will turn himself around once or twice before deciding to see if I will let him rest in his favorite spot. Slowly he snakes himself up my torso, purring, until his front paws reach my shoulder. If my shirt is thick enough I barely notice that his claws are holding onto my shoulder as he finds his happy place. Sometimes I have to rearrange those little needles so they don't hurt quite so much, but unless I am busy I will let him stay for a while. With his haunches in my lap and the rest of him spread across my upper body he sleeps and purrs. It makes me think of a small child - that look of supreme contentedness on his face as he sprawls across me, sleeping.
Soon, my feet are falling asleep or I need to reach for something or I move for some other reason and he awakens. His first effort is to dig in the claws and not be dislodged. If that won't work (it doesn't very often since I prefer not to be completely perforated with claw marks) he will shift to my lap before giving me a disgusted look and settling elsewhere for his nap.
I admire the trust my cat places in me, and I am reminded that it is the kind of trust I need to place in God at all times. I am dislodged from my comfort zone, moved into a place I might even resent, but I will always return to the heart of my heavenly father where I am held in loving arms and comforted. I may want to punish God for moving me, for placing me in situations where I am uncomfortable, awkward, and unhappy, but in the end I know where I am safest and happiest.