It was one of the hottest days of the dry season. We had not seen rain in almost a month. Crops were dying. Cows had stopped giving milk. The creeks and streams were long gone back into the earth. It was a dry season that would bankrupt several farmers before it was through. Water rationing would soon wipe out our farm.
Then I learnt a lesson in sharing and witnessed the only miracle I have seen with my own eyes. I was making lunch when I saw my six-year old son, Billy, walk to the woods. He walked with a serious purpose. I could only see his back, but he seemed to walk with great care.
He carried on walking carefully to the woods and running back to the house, for over an hour. Finally I couldn't take it any longer and I crept and followed him on his journey. He cupped both his little hands in front of him as he walked, taking care not to spill the little water he held in them.
Branches and thorns slapped his little face but he did not try to avoid them. He had a much higher purpose. Then I saw the most amazing site. Several large deer loomed in front of him. Billy walked right up to them. I almost screamed for him to get away.
A huge buck with elaborate antlers was dangerously close. But the buck did not threaten him, nor did he move as Billy knelt down. And I saw a tiny fawn laying on the ground, obviously suffering from dehydration. It lifted its head with great effort to lap up the water cupped in my son's hand.
When the water was gone, Billy jumped up to run back to the house and I hid behind a tree. I followed him back to the house, to a spigot that we had shut off the water to. Billy opened it all the way, to catch what drips there were in his makeshift "cup", as the sun beat down on his little back.
Clearly the trouble he had gotten into for playing with the hose the week before and the lecture he had received about not wasting water, influenced his behavior. No wonder he didn't ask me to help him.
It took almost twenty minutes for the drops to fill his hands. When he stood up and began the trek back, I was there in front of him. His little eyes just filled with tears. "I'm not wasting," was all he said. As he began his walk, I joined him...with a small pot of water from the kitchen.
I let him tend to the fawn. I stayed away. It was his job. I stood on the edge of the woods watching the most beautiful heart I have ever known working hard to save another life. As the tears rolled down my face began to hit the ground, they were suddenly joined by other drops...and more drops.
I looked up at the sky. It was as if God, himself, was weeping with pride. Some will probably say that this was all just a huge coincidence. That miracles don't really exist. That it was bound to rain sometime. And I can't argue with that...I'm not going to try. All I can say is that the rain that came that day saved our farm ... just like the actions of one little boy saved another. For God does ultimately reward our persistent faithfullness and He brings breakthroughs so we may know that He is God.
Author unknown, published by http://www.bethelstone.com/
No comments:
Post a Comment