Jesus and Opossums

Hubby and I were at a birthday party on Saturday evening, and my parents were home with the boys. The dog started barking at something, and #2 went out to check on it. Kelly had found an opossum and was harassaing it. #2 ran back into the house and yelled, "We're having 'possum stew tomorrow!" and grabbed his gun. He went outside and shot it a couple of times with his bb gun. When we returned from the party, we knew something was up, because someone was in the field with a flashlight. It was #2 looking at his catch. The dog was still shaking and attacking the thing, and #2 was saying he wasn't sure if it was still playing possum or if it was really dead. The most exciting thing, though, was that he wanted to skin it and make a pair of gloves or earmuffs. "Possum skin is very soft," he explained. "How do you know? You haven't picked that up have you?" "Don't you remember, Mom? There were possum skins at our Envirothon training at Goose Creek." So Sunday morning, he checked on it in the field, and it was definitely not playing dead. So he stuck it in the fort until he could get to it to skin it. Later on Sunday he found a baby opossum trying to crawl out of its pouch. Now the whole thing was in a different light. He didn't know the possum was a girl, especially a mommy. I don't think he is planning on skinning it now. But the bigger problem is the baby. I imagine it is dead now, but if it isn't what do we do with it? #2 wanted to raise it, but when I gave him several scenarios of what might happen, he decided we should feed it to one of the cats. I know this is going to sound odd, but this event reminded me of Jesus' death and the disciples. Maybe it is just because it is so close to Easter, or because we talked about being friends with Jesus yesterday at church, but here is what it makes me ponder. This baby possum was being cared for and protected. It believed it was safe and that nothing could hurt its mother. Now it is left in the cold and rain, trying to survive on its own. It must be very frightened. It doesn't even have a clue of what possibilities lie in wait, like a cat. That must be what it was like to be Jesus' disciples. They must have been hurt, confused, and terrified. But for them the story ended better. There was no cat, no loss of protection, but there was the opportunity to see their friend again. Those three days of worry and fear must have been tortuous, Jesus wasn't playing possum, he really was dead. But imagine how they felt on Sunday when Jesus reappeared! All of the fear was replaced by rejoicing. Certainly there was still confusion, and probably still some fear, but what could harm them now if even death was overcome? I don't know what will happen to this baby opossum, but I am glad I have a Savior who has risen from the dead. I can hardly wait to see him.