A Servant's Call
I can't decide what to do next. I have no earthly idea what to do. I don't ever recall feeling this helpless. Suddenly my ignorance is intolerable. I call the local resort office and ask them if they have any ideas. The woman that answers can't understand my problem. After all, the bat's outside where it belongs, isn't it? "I'd take a broom to it!" she replies. She gives me the animal control phone number. Maybe they can help. I call them and only get a recording. Sounds like the dogcatcher. I don't want a dogcatcher. I want a compassionate human being that can care about this bat and about me, desperately trying to help the bat and deal with my own ignorance. No one I talk to seems to understand my concern for this bat. By this time, I'm wondering about my concern too!
It's the end of the second day with the bat has been outside. It's still alive, barely. It has managed to crawl between the floorboards of the deck so it can hang upside down as it's designed to do. I still don't know if it will live. But I desperately need it to live! Suddenly I'm overcome with the overwhelming feeling of powerlessness and despair. I find myself on my knees, sobs wracking my body, pleading with God to save this bat. Nothing else seems to matter. A part of my mind says, "It's just one bat out of millions of bats. What's one more or less in this world?" Then I realize that the bat and I are much alike really. After all, I am only one of millions of people in this world; what's one more or less? Think about it! Listen to the news on any given day. People are dying right and left; gunshot in the street, decapitated in a car accident, cremated in a plane crash, suicided. Worse still, children are being abused physically, emotionally and sexually and left as brown blobs under chairs for someone to find.
We all know bats exist in the world. We've heard about bats, read about them, seen them on TV or in zoos. Some of us have been fortunate enough to actually see them flying at dusk, catching insects with great expertise. But until you've met a bat personally, and become as intimate as possible with one, they are barely real. My bat had become very real to me�too real. I believe it's sick and near death and I can't help it�I don't know how. We can't communicate with one another and we fear each other. As for denial, I'm on the wagon. And so, I hurt to the depths of my soul because, out of my ignorance and fear, I stand by helplessly waiting for the bat to live or to die.
The next day, I go out, with great trepidation, to see if the bat is still there. It is and it's mad! Good sign, I think. It opens its mouth, shows its impressive set of teeth, and screeches at me. I'm elated! A little later, while sitting on the couch enjoying the music and a good book, my ever-faithful peripheral vision picks up a movement outside the front windows, the one's over the deck, where the bat is. I look up in time to see a small brown blob, wings extended, drift up and over the roof of the cabin.
My heart sings as I watch and recall the story of Jesus' death and resurrection. Three days He lay in the tomb only to rise, gloriously alive on the third day. Strangely, as I watch the bat regain its life and take wing, my own spirit rises to meet the sky where my Lord waits, arms outstretched to lead me in a new direction�my own life resurrected. I fall to my knees and commit my life in service to Master Jesus, amazed that He would use a small helpless bat to finally reach my hardened heart and give me peace.
I turn toward the setting sun, knowing the sunrise will bring with it new horizons in the company of Lord Jesus. I don't know where this new path will lead any more than I know the destination of my friend in flight. But I trust the One who calls out, "Follow me."
I found a bat in the cabin and I didn't know what to do. Most days, with most things I don't know what to do. And I cry out to the Creator because He is this bat's only hope and my only hope. I'm so very grateful that Jesus knew what to do when He found me, a small injured blob, under a chair in His house... I guess He knew what to do with my bat as well.