A Humbling Thought

Here's a Parrot that Escaped Jerry's Bird Hunts

Cincinnati Zoo

2007

Luke 15:7 NIV
"I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent."

Jerry had disappeared again. He was usually gone for a couple weeks at a time. My family often laughed about his second family and how he must have a pretty nice home away from home. 

We missed him, and we wished we knew when he would return, but he was not a cat to be fenced in by our love or laws. The world was too large for him, and he had to explore every nook and cranny of it.

His brother, Tom, was the exact opposite. He was a spoiled, orange and white long-haired house cat. He would only go outside to follow me to the bus stop. Once I was on the bus, he turned around and returned home. He didn't want to take any chances of missing a meal at home.

His sleek, short-haired brother, Jerry, would return home with the entrails of some animal he had caught on the way home. He offered the innards to us as a love gift. It was his way to make amends for his long absences. 

Once, he hadn't quite killed the bird he had in his mouth. Our horrified neighborhood friends chased him into our house trying to rescue the bird. They circled through the living room, into the kitchen, around the dining room, and back into the entrance way where he deposited the poor bird, more dead than alive.

As I tried in vain to explain the symbolic act of love Jerry had bestowed upon us by bringing the bird home, my friends condemned him as a cold-blooded murderer.

Oh well.

Tom was gone for two weeks once. We panicked, as he didn't possess his brother's skills for survival in the wild. I had taught him to answer to my whistle, so I spent the better part of that time whistling for Tom as I went to school and came home each day. 

No answer.

We heard rumors he was spotted around the Home Economics room at the high school. (That a boy, Tom! Get some food.) But he was also supposedly by the Anatomy and Physiology room, where they dissected dead cats. (Stay away from there!)

Finally, mom drove the car around the high school, and I whistled as loudly as I could. "Tom! Tom!" I hollered out the open window. This time, we saw an overweight fuzz ball running as fast as his stubby legs could carry him to our car.

I cried, mom cried, he purred. It was a perfect ending to our search for our lost boy.

I know God hunts that hard for me when I have gone off the straight and narrow. I'm sure He has hollered my name to get my attention. Maybe He has even whistled to get me to turn my head.

But I wonder if He has cried in joy over me when I have come back to Him?  I never thought about God crying before. I know He rejoices when I am back in the fold--but wow--does He shed tears of joy when I am found? 

What a humbling thought.
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Lord, thank you for searching for me and looking for me when I was lost.