Have you ever experienced something so profound and moving that you can't shut up about it? It's an awesome feeling. However, sometimes the thing you are so jazzed about doesn't seem to make the same everlasting impression on your chosen audience. I think it's better that way though. It keeps the memory special for you.
When I was going to high school in the middle of the woods in Michigan I had one of those experiences. To set the scene I've got to tell you that I pretty much thought school was a life-draining parasite that I had been burdened with. I didn't fit in, I was insecure, and I was struggling with lots of emotional baggage.
At that point in my life, my relationship with God was strained at best. Attempts at prayer frequently caused me to dissolve into tears. Sermons often overwhelmed me with guilt that prevented me from hearing the good news of Jesus' love for me. I was lost and utterly depressed.
Each day at school had its ups and downs. One chilly Fall day I was trudging to my car to switch out the textbooks in my backpack when something amazing happened. I saw something move on the gravel out of the corner of my eye, and I froze. The next thing I knew a tiny, tiny brown mouse was perched on top of my right shoe. (Take note: I think mice are super adorable.) I stared down at it, with my mouth hanging open like a goon, for minutes on end. What are the odds of a tiny, super cute mouse relaxing on your clog in the wild?! Pretty slim!
At this point all thoughts of school, when my next class started, or the possibility of contracting a disease from this tiny creature were far from my mind. I slowly bent down and picked the little guy up. He semi-freaked out and tried to bite me but then I deposited him in the warm scarf I had just been wearing and he relaxed. He was warm and safe.
It's a miracle I made it to class at all that afternoon, and I'm sure I didn't hear a word my teachers spoke to me. God had just sent me love in the form of an itsy bitsy mouse. He had seen my suffering and He had heard my cries for help. He knew, in His infinite wisdom, that all it would take to lift my eyes back to him was a visit from a mouse. How weird is that?
Even now it's hard to explain how I felt that afternoon, after the mouse encounter. I felt God's presence in a way that I had never believed I could. He had entrusted the life of one of his precious, small, furry creatures, to my care. He saw that I didn't love myself. He saw that I felt alone. He sent me an angel. A little, furry, mousy angel.
When I finally made it to class, I left the scarf (with mouse on it) outside of the building, hoping fervently that he would still be there when I got out. After class I practically galloped back to see him, but he had gone on his merry way. When you have a connection like that with an animal, there is no other explanation, in my mind, than God's love.
Long live the animals!
Love,
Charlotte
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