Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous; nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness… (Hebrews 12:11)
The other day, sitting quietly on our little dock that overlooks a tidal creek, I saw a mother raccoon lead her three babies out of the tall grass on the far side of the creek and onto a fallen tree that stretched out to deep water. She dove in gracefully and swam around, chirring at the little ones, coaxing them to join her.
They just looked dismayed; obviously they had never tried to swim. This was to be their first lesson.
Finally with a desperate plunge, the baby threw himself into the creek and floundered frantically to shore, where I was sure that in a minute or two he would brag to his siblings about how brave he was.
The raccoon mother chose the toughest of her babies for her little lesson in loving. She tested him because she knew he could respond. She seemed to abandon him, but she never did.
Dear Lord, when I think You have forgotten me, let me remember that baby raccoon.
