When you think you've nailed things down, and have everything in it's tiny, tidy, little box... the Gods just throw you a loop. And then when you fail to react with proper awe and flailing... they send another message down the line to strike you down. I had my little personal pantheon all tied up, ready, waiting, and good to go. And dammit, I liked it that way.
First, it was dreams of Bast. Then it was mentions left and right... people hanging on the word longer than they should (or maybe my ear hanging on it). Then it was a semi-open statue falling off of a shelf in the closet and striking me on the head. It's sweet little smile saying "Ha ha, GUESS WHERE I BELONG?!"
I used to work with Bast in her role as a protector of Ma'at, and as the one who prevents corruption (cats eat mice, mice eat grain - and defecate all over it as they do so). Until I had one of those very dramatic pagan falling-outs with her. I used to even deny I'd ever worked with her at all.
Because she asked me something I couldn't give. She wanted me to be a mother for her one day. And at the time I thought I knew what that meant. And now I know I was wrong.
I think the whole thing that triggered it was a recent push to re-home feral cats from a local colony. I realized as I went to work hand-taming them, and setting traps, that "Heh... they're like my furry little kids." and in the back of my skull I heard it "You're their mother for me. *smiles because she knew she'd win*"
You win this round.