Wild Kingdom

Do you remember "Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom"? We were limited on our television watching when we were growing up, but that was one of the shows that my sisters and I were allowed to watch. I remember liking to watch the variety of animal footage that they would show. There were so many interesting creatures and scenarios. However, there was always that nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach for the inevitable moment of, what my brother-in-law would call, "the circle of life" footage. (Actually, he would sing it in a really high-pitched voice at the most poignant moment of the scene.) You know what I'm talking about: The Wildebeests are grazing peacefully on the savanna - babies frolicking together. Then suddenly, a stampede... the animals start to run - a stalking lion is spotted in the tall grass, and they all start a full-blown run. But wait, one of the little babies is separated from its mother. It cries that pitiful cry as it starts to run aimlessly with the herd and is singled out by the lion. Inevitably, the shrieking baby is caught in the lion's sharp claws and carried away "to feed the lion's hungry cubs", of course. (Even as I type it, I can hear the high-pitched sound of my brother-in-law's voice singing "The Circle of Life".)

Well, I think that, as a general rule, girls see this scene in a completely different light than boys do. We have the Planet Earth DVD series. It is fantastic, and it is similar, in some parts, to Wild Kingdom. The baby elephant who loses it's mom in a dust storm and is lost forever... The juvenile elephant who is taken down by a pride of hungry lions... The baby gorilla that is beaten to death by a larger male... The baby goslings carried off by a hungry fox - to feed its hungry cubs, of course... My girls and I are nearly weeping at these scenes, and my boys are going, "Wow! Cool!" Levi actually says things like, "Yeah, he got him! He's gonna eat him all up." Sadie has a stuffed elephant named "Ellie" that she has had since she was born. She adores "Ellie" - sleeping with her every night. When we were watching, in suspense, the elephant being attacked by the lion pride, Levi said, "Uh, oh... Ellie's in BIG trouble!"

Yesterday, when I was away from our house, my husband texted me a photo of an injured hawk that was hanging out on our back deck. It obviously had an injured neck, and he took 5 minutes of video of the dying hawk. I added music to this video, because I have just figured out how to do video editing with my iMAC. So now, every video we take becomes, not just a video anymore, but rather an emotional experience. My husband asked me why I was adding music to it, and, aside from "because I know how to", I had no other good answer. I think it added the touch of sadness that I felt over being helpless to help the bird of prey. Alas, he was not able to be helped. He passed away in the night, and we laid him to rest this morning. If you look at his talons, you can be sure, as I am, that he had taken his share of smaller animal lives during his time on earth, but I still felt sorry for this pitiable creature in his final hours anyway.

When we came home that evening, the bird was still languishing on the patio under the deck. My son, who just turned 14, has hunting in his blood, apparently. My husband has hunted before, but he doesn't care for it. Austin, on the other hand, has wanted to kill innocent creatures for as long as I can remember. I'm sure some people would think that makes him deranged somehow, but I've come to realize that he is just that kind of boy. He likes guns and planes and could spend all day watching the Military Channel. I grew up with sisters, and I have borne daughters. My father and husband are both mechanically-inclined. That's how they conquer. Others do it through creating computer programs (or viruses), playing sports, inventing things, restoring things, demolishing things, or curing diseases. He starts the Illinois hunter safety course next week, and that was our prerequisite before he could buy his own gun. He's been saving up for quite some time.

Last night, when he and his dad were home, he used his dad's rifle to shoot a bunny rabbit. I'm not saying it was a baby bunny, but it was small. The girls and I were not happy when we came home to find him dressing it out, but he couldn't have been happier. I'm not sure I've seen him that ecstatic - maybe in years. He then took out his Dangerous Book for Boys and read up on how to get the meat off the bones, skin it, and tan the hide. I know he felt so good. He felt capable and alive. He felt strong. I couldn't help but feel emotions colliding - the Wild Kingdom emotions were all churning within me, at the same time, I was proud of my son for doing something he's always wanted to do and for learning something new. The pioneer spirit within me thinks, "Well, if the apocalypse comes, he won't let us go hungry." :) Mark came in with one of my kitchen bowls with a few pieces of rabbit meat in it. He put it in a baggie in my fridge - next to the real food. The thought of preparing it for him makes my stomach turn, but I so want to be a good mom to him. His biological mother is, for all intents and purposes, absent from his life. I love him dearly.

Anybody got a good recipe for rabbit stew? I feel like Grandma Clampitt off to cook up a mess o' somethin'.

Crutches

Mark took Levi and Violet down to the creek today to toss rocks off the bridge. This, of course, is one of their favorite activities... like most children. As he told it, Levi had smuggled a pacifier, "paci" - affectionately, down to the bridge. He is supposed to be being weaned from paci. As he was enthusiastically throwing rocks over the bridge, he opened his mouth to exclaim, and, like something from Aesop's Fables, paci tumbled out, bounced once off the bridge railing, and fell, plop, into the creek below. Levi, with furrowed brow, looked forlornly down into the water and said, "I lost paci! Now, what am I going to do?" Now, one could successfully argue that if a child can utter such sophisticated monologue, he should scarcely need a paci. However, I think that Levi would be inclined to disagree, and might, quite maturely, make a decent case.

When Mark came home to tell me the story, I said, "Oh, no. That was our last spare."

To which he replied, "Well, maybe tonight is a good night for him to say goodbye to paci."

I had to agree, although I was still contemplating a quick trip into town for a new one.

I think about how strange it is that we learn to depend on crutches from a very early age. We lean on things - sometimes encouraged by our parents - to fill an emotional or physical void. Even if parents are the ones who try to fill our voids as children, they are still inadequate. They still fall short. I struggle with my voids. I try to fill them with hobbies or time wasters. I try to fill my stomach with sweets and other things I know aren't good for me. I try to fill my ears with noise and my eyes with stimuli.

I was thinking about my thoughts today - how redundant. I noticed that I think a lot more thoughts about God than I think toward Him. I imagine He would tend to prefer the latter... just like I would. It's nice for my husband to think about me, but I don't know he is unless he's thinking toward me. If he tells me what he's thinking toward me, or if he expresses it in actions that benefit me, then we have made a connection that is impossible when he merely thinks about me. More often than not I let my thoughts direct me. Today I am prompted to be more purposeful to direct my thoughts, instead of letting them direct me, and to make them known - not just in words on a blog or even in a prayer, but in my actions. God thinks about me, no doubt... and has been since the beginning of time. (Zeph. 3:17, Zech. 2:8, Jer. 29:11, Col. 3:12) But more importantly, His thoughts have been directed toward me for my good. Sometimes we find this hard to believe.

We mistrust God because we are unsure of our worth to Him. We think that we are merely tolerated by Him... that since our failure is so great that we couldn't be worth the rejoicing He claims to do over us. We are unsure of His goodness. So we may tend to think that when difficulties come our way we are being punished or at least neglected by God. The contrary is always true. His thoughts have always been directed toward us... for our good. If I tell my son tomorrow that he has to continue to go out and work in a garden that is scarcely producing any fruit, he is frustrated - maybe even angry - with me. But I carry a burden called: The Big Picture. I can see that he is learning to stick with something he started - to persevere in bleak circumstances. I can see that he is learning good work ethic - to finish a project started. I can also see that this will make him a better employee someday... more marketable... more competitive... stronger.

God also carries the same burden, but on a much grander scale. Our trials and sufferings aren't the result of a forgetful or vengeful God. They are part of our growing process... a tiny portion of The Big Picture. Salvation wasn't a contingency plan for a bunch of cosmic failures. It was a way to sacrifice Himself for His greatest love - people who were lost. The greatest love stories are ones of great sacrifice. He made us the object of the greatest love story every told.

Jesse Ventura once said that "religion is just a crutch for the weak". He's right.