Two raccoons stopped by for a little dog food tonight. It was so much fun to watch them nervously waddle up to the glass door to check us out, just inches away. The bigger one ate most of the food, and the smaller one with three legs only got to eat the leftover scraps. It is nature’s way. But I hate it.
I really want the three-legged raccoon to be my pet. I would make sure it was never hungry. I would give it attention and hold it. It’s fine with me for the big bad-arse to pass on its genetic material (it’s beautiful), but I want to take care of the injured one.
Maybe that’s like God and us crazy people. This weekend some five and six-year-old kids didn’t want to play with an eight-year-old because he was different. He has to wear a helmet because he has seizures and can fall on sharp corners and objects when he loses control. While I’m sure the angels love all the kids and just want them to get along, I’ll bet the angels want to hold Brian the most and tell him he’s okay, that he’s loved, that eternity will be better.
I was sitting at the back door reading Matthew 5 just before the animal visitation.
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.