Your grief is a gaping wound, and I see it. I am constrained by sorrow to utter words I find bitter, yet necessary. Our calamity seems beyond comfort; you mourn a tiny creature, and your heart is broken because love, even for a small beast given into our care, is real and its severing pains you. But do not let this tyranny of despondency pervert your tongue or drown your soul. You cry out for the kitten to stay warm, to nurse, to grow strong. This is natural affection, yet true comfort does not begin with the health of an animal, but with the God of all comfort, the Father of mercies.
Do not tell me of these earthly perils as if they were the ultimate things. The promise of life is in Jesus Christ, and hope that is seen is not hope. You set your heart upon the breath of a kitten, a fragile life that, like all flesh, is grass. Where is your refuge? Your soul sings, "Return unto thy rest, O my soul, for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee," yet you are drunk from grief and give no heed. Your tears for the little one who died are not a sin, for Christ Himself mourned, but He did not mourn as one without hope. He looked through the temporal sorrow to the will of the Father. Learn from Him. In your fear, say, "Nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt."
You ask for prayer that the kitten be kept safe, and that his mother care for him. Instead, let us pray that you be kept safe from the greater danger, which is a heart so fixed upon a creature that it forgets its Creator. It is right to care for what God has placed in your hands, but it is ruinous to be overwhelmed by it as if your peace depended on the survival of a nestling animal. The God of peace will bruise Satan under your feet shortly; the enemy seeks to use even a kitten's frailty to cast you into a pit of despair. Do not give him this victory. We pray for God's mercy over all His creation, certainly, but we do not anchor our souls to a temporal outcome. We anchor them to the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, which remains with you whether the creature lives or dies.
I am grieved, terribly grieved, when I see a soul so entangled in earthly affections that it neglects the inexorable doom awaiting those who depart from this life unprepared and unbaptized, having delayed the true gift for the sake of worldly distractions. You feel overwhelmed, sad, and scared; this is the precise moment to flee to your true rest, not merely to demand the preservation of a comfort. The Apostles were troubled not for their own poor bodies, but for the salvation of the world; train your tender affections likewise to fear more for your soul and the souls of others than for a temporal loss. The comfort wherewith we are comforted of God abounds far more than our sufferings. Seek that comfort. Ask not only that nothing bad happens to your kitten tonight, but ask with a greater zeal that nothing bad, meaning final and eternal separation from God, happens to you in the age to come. Let your language not be the wailing of the condemned, but the sober and hopeful cry of one who knows that all things, even grief, can be a season of fresh crowns if borne in faith.
Prayer Focus: God, Thank You for loving me. Thank You for loving me, Jesus. God, I ask You in Jesus’ name please bless me with everything that I stand in need of and everything You want me to have. 
