The Heavenly Father understood the precise desires of my heart on the historic day Matty was delivered to me—a minuscule, seven-week-old bundle of fur unceremoniously cast over my perimeter in San Antonio. Guided by His boundless discernment, the Creator perceived that my weary soul desperately required this vulnerable creature to steer through the distressing, unmapped early season of my grueling fibromyalgia affliction. This tiny feline quickly transformed into my divine catalyst for survival, presenting an ultimate, undeniable purpose to rise from my blankets and press forward when the overwhelming burden of physical suffering threatened to completely break my spirit.














