choosing and chosen

It was over ten years ago when I went to the Humane Society in Fairfax, VA to get my cats Shadow and Pipsqueak. When I walked in, there were cats everywhere (the Humane Society didn't use cages). I saw Shadow laying on a piece of furniture and I immediately went over and picked him up. He quietly let me hold him and pet him. Of course, I didn't know it at the time, but that was a minor miracle! Shadow just knew he could trust me. And I knew I should take him - he was already half grown (David will no doubt say full grown), and he was so sweet, but not as cute as a kitten. Who else would take him?
But I knew I wanted two cats, so I went into another room full of gray and white kittens. They were all running around, playing and mewing and being adorable. But one of them ran up to me. He stood right at my feet, looked up into my face, and miaowed loudly until I picked him up. The minute I had him, he got quiet. I put him down to look at some other kittens and he repeated the performance. He had chosen me.
So I ended up with two cats: one that I chose and one that chose me. I was talking with a friend recently about God, and we were talking about the validity of other religions and why a person would choose one over another. And I guess what I'm thinking about is the fact that sometimes we choose a faith, but sometimes a faith chooses us. Or, sometimes we choose God, and sometimes God chooses us. We had forgotten the fact that it's a two way street.