A THOUGHT ON TURTLES

On my way home tonight, I happened to be filled with sympathy for roadkill.  The poor cats, squirrels, opossums, etc, that are just left on the side or the middle of the road with no one to grieve them.

I started to drive up a hill.  Before me was a large object.  It looked like some kind of dead animal.  I passed over it.  The thing moved, and I saw the head of a turtle.  I passed a bridge, and pulled over.  For those who know me, I do not run.  I make every excuse in the book not to run.  Well, I saw this poor turtle, and I had to run.  You see, my way home is on a busy road.  A very busy road.  I ran to the turtle.  I think I caused some attention, for cars started to go slower.  

I prayed that no one would run over the turtle (the picture is not the one I saw).  The poor thing can't move very fast.  You try carrying a top heavy shell on your back and see where how fast you can move!  As I got closer, I saw that someone had run over the turtle.  Blood was rushing out of a wound on its shell.  I rushed to the middle of the road.  Not a smart idea, I know, but it was either me or the turtle.  People can see me before they see the turtle.  I really gave no thought as to my own welfare.  

Usually, when I see a turtle, I will pick it up and carry it the side of the road that it's facing.  Not this one.  It jumped at me and swung its neck toward me.  I paused, debating how to save this poor, defenseless creature.  It was a snapping turtle, and it was huge!  It could do some major damage to my hands, should I attempt to pick it up.  

I must have been a sight, and probably people wanted to shoot me for what I did next.  I walked around the turtle's back and pushed it with my foot.  It's hard to kick a turtle, I must say.  I really didn't want to cause it any more pain, but I also didn't want the poor thing to keep getting run over.  It would slowly die if I left it there.  The turtle jumped forward and swung its neck toward me again.  When it moved, I saw a thick pool of blood on the road.  The reptile was in pain.  Yet, I  had to move it away from the busy road, where it would surely be in more pain should I leave it there.

I tried to encourage it.  "Come on, honey.   A little bit further."  It was only a few feet from the edge of the road, where it could continue its path safely.  I went around the turtle and tried to coax it by waving my foot (I wanted to protect my hand) in front of it.  Several cars slowed, but I didn't catch the looks.  I was too focused on coaxing the turtle to safe ground.  The turtle's aggressiveness would be my key to making sure it was safe.  Sure enough, with a little bit more of pushing with my foot, and a little bit more of waving my shoe covered foot in front of it, it slowly followed me to the edge of the road.  Then, it turned around, for it was after me.  I went around the turtle, and it followed me.

Relieved, I started to breathe right again.  "Okay, you're on your own, now," I told the turtle.  "I'll leave you in peace."

On my way back to the car, I prayed, "It's Your turn now, Lord.  Protect it and make it heal faster."

As I'm writing this, I am thinking. . . 

What if God uses the same method that I did?  Oh, sure, I was concerned about feeling pain myself in the attempt of rescuing the turtle.  But, what if it is our own pain, our own stubbornness that causes the Lord to push and prompt and be willing to get snapped at, if it means that we get safely across the road?  He sees our pain.  He sees the blood spilling out of our hearts and our outside protective layers.  To leave us there, in the  middle of the busy road means a certain, agonizing, slow death for us.  God is compassionate.  He sees us and has compassion on us.  In the midst of our pain, is He behind us, pushing us, even though He sees the pile of blood left behind as we slowly move forward?  Our natural reaction is to turn and snap at the one behind us, who is causing us pain.  And so, we snap at Him.  How dare He make the pain worse?  God, in His infinite wisdom, sees the safety of the edge of the road only a few feet from us.  He knows we can make it.  He might have to inflict a little pain, but He knows we will be safe if He can get us to move forward.  

Or maybe, He's in front of us, waving His arms or (in my case) feet, saying, "Come on, just a little bit more, honey!  You can do it!  Follow Me!  I will lead you to safety.  Where you're at now is not safe."  And, turning, He sees the cars (put in any kind of dangers here) heading straight for us.  Without thought to His own safety, He coaxs us forward.  He stands between the danger and us.  Not seeing the dangers behind Him, we focus on Him and snap at  Him.  In the process, we jump forward.  But not enough.

God has to repeat this process, taking more risks as the cars keep coming.  He knows we are only inches from safety.  Unwillingly, we snap at Him and follow Him.  Finally, we are at the edge of the road.  He breathes a sigh of relief and says, "You are safe now.  I will be with you for always.  I'll never leave your side.  Trust Me."

Yes, I left that turtle.  But, thank God, He will never leave me!