Child-like faith and a dead mouse

Our family loves animals. There's something very enjoyable and educational about having animals involved in our daily lives. We've learned many life lessons through observing and loving different creatures of God's. We have lots of pets, but enjoy animals from the "wild" also. This incident happened a couple of months ago, but I forgot to share it then, and it's just too good not to.

Among our menagerie, we have two cats. They are Merlin and Magic, and are 12 years old. They're sweet, easygoing, and generally tolerate lots of loving from our kids without even a tiny complaint. Very rarely, one will bring us a little gift, in the form of a mole or tiny mouse. This has only happened a dozen times probably in the dozen years we've had them. Either they aren't too appreciative of our providing food and shelter, or they just have no desire to hunt because it requires energy to be expended and they're lazy. One morning this fall though, Abigail and Isaac opened the side door to the driveway, and there lay a pitiful, non-living, little field mouse. Abigail immediately came running, saying, "Oh Mom! Come see this precious mouse that is asleep in the driveway!" I instantly cringed, thinking, 'Uh oh, this is going to be sad.'

So, I went to the door, and tried to gently explain that the mouse was no longer just sleeping, though he didn't look harmed at all, and had apparently not survived our kitty's playing with him. My sweet girl just listened with big eyes, so sad, and incredulous. I couldn't answer exactly why Merlin or Magic would have played with an innocent mouse, when they had no intention of eating it, but tried to explain that animals have instincts that makes them hunt (occasionally) and they are just doing what God created them for. She tried to understand, but was really just brokenhearted. She asked if she could sit out there for a while with the tiny mouse, and just watch after it. I said that was fine, and just to not pick it up in case it had germs.

She came in later, ready to do school, and asked me to come see "him." When I walked outside, I nearly cried at her sensitivity and the hope she had for this tiny creature. She'd moved him, "very gently with a shovel," she said, to the small trampoline we have, so he wouldn't be on the ground. Then, beside him she'd placed a square of cheese. I asked her what she did that for, and she said she had been out there praying for him, and though she knew he was dead, she thought maybe God would let him come back to life, so she wanted him to have food if God answered her prayer. She had been crying, but was very calm and really hopeful.

All day, she'd go glance out the window to see what the status was of the mouse. Thankfully, no one disturbed him, but he also never got up. Later in the afternoon, James and I talked to her about how God probably wasn't going to resurrect the mouse, so we needed to bury it before another animal hurt its body. She agreed, and helped James bury it, and prayed as they did. Her earnest belief that God could heal that mouse was so powerful, even if we adults thought it was a little silly at first. There was no reason God couldn't do it, so she prayed, believing He just might, and then wasn't devastated when He didn't. We talked about how the Bible specifically says that God knows even when a sparrow falls, so He knew about this little mouse, and heard her prayer.

The hope she demonstrated then is a precious memory to me. We need to emulate that child-like faith much more often! When my Mom had cancer nearly 2 years ago now, our kids were the most positive and hopeful throughout her treatment and recovery. Though we knew her situation and early detection were going to make her odds very good of coming through it well, there was always some doubt in the back of my mind. Isaac and Abigail both were so encouraging in their prayers and patient waiting of God to completely heal Gramma. And, He did, and they weren't surprised at all. Isn't that just great?