mourning a squirrel

Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! --Luke 12:24

Today, on the way to church, I ran over a squirrel. It is the first time in my life that I have been directly responsible for the death of a living creature (houseplants excluded). I felt horrible. The little guy was just trying to cross the interstate with something he had found and he stopped in my lane. I tried to avoid him without swerving too sharply (did that once. lesson learned.), but he stepped right into the line of my tire, stood up, and I hit him. I couldn't believe it.
For the next ten minutes of my drive, I mourned the death of that little squirrel. I thought about where he could have been going, what he could have been doing, who he might have left behind. Silly, I know, but my imagination took over. Now, his little life was over. And I'm the one that ended it. I was practically in tears.
Then, I realized, while I'm sure God cares about squirrels, I know he loves his children more. He made us in his own image. And there are bearers of his image dying all over the world--the speaker for my high school graduation said someone in the world dies every seven seconds. They aren't necessarily getting hit by cars; they're dying of AIDS, lack of food and water, disease, and disaster. And many of them are dying without the hope of Jesus.
In light of that, mourning a squirrel seemed foolish and insignificant. If I want to be more like Jesus, and I do, maybe I should devote a little more care to the people of this world, not just the squirrels.


Show me how to love like You loved me. Break my heart for what breaks Yours.