As I sat in my car on a rural South Carolina road, I saw the stealth fox exit the woods. It darted towards the mother hen and the baby chick that closely followed her. The hen spotted the threat and responded by charging the fox, keeping it at bay from her baby. The wee chick stood frozen and dazed as its mother and the predator contended for its life.
Both the fox and hen were relentless in their pursuits. But the swifter, more agile fox prevailed. With the baby clamped in its jaws, the fox fled into the woods. The mother hen moved quickly behind in a last gasp effort to rescue her little one. But the fox had vanished into the thick underbrush.
For the past half-hour, I have watched and listened to the mother hen as she paces frantically about the area where the trespass occurred, squawking with fear and sadness. I wonder how she feels. How long will she miss her little one? How deep is her sorrow?
Oh, that we would learn from these fellow creatures with whom we share this earth. That we, supposedly the most intelligent of God’s creations, would watch vigilantly, protectively over our precious little ones, from conception until their introduction to the outside world, and then throughout childhood. And that we would guard our hearts and minds from a very real predator who would provide justification, a twisted rationale for allowing his approach and snatching away of that life. Oh, the heartache we could avoid!
Jesus clarified the issue, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life and have it to the full.”