Lessons from Big Momma (by Judy)

Last week was filled with joy and sorrow in the barn by our school. It started out with the daily excitement of another baby lamb being born. Each visit brought delight at watching the transition from still-damp little bodies wobbling on legs for the first time, to cavorting with step-siblings through the straw, stopping only to seek a handy mother’s milk. Those mothers were amazing – welcoming their own, while gently but firmly pushing aside a greedy lamb without the right smell. With the addition of five babies, the runt pig now has 60 legs to scurry between, a mischievous Puck among her fellow sprites and their doting parents.

Through it all, dear Big Momma watched, the heaviest of the pregnant sheep, stolid but benign, as always was her nature, the friendliest, and clearly the respected head of the harem. Bets were even placed on when she would give birth, and how many babies would be delivered, with the promise of a dozen freshly laid eggs as the reward. Alas, with the use of the word “was” above, you may have discerned such a future was not to be.

Big Momma never delivered those little twin boys. Instead she joined them in the place where God’s beloved critters go after no longer being able to sustain life here on earth. The Bible is unclear about the place of animals in God’s eternal kingdom. After all, it was written for us, for our edification, pleasure, and reward. It would not do any good to speak to the animals, for they can’t read! But those of us who have loved an animal beyond all logic rest in the confidence that God loves all that He creates.

The promises in Isaiah 55 make it one of the most beautiful chapters in the Bible. “You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.” If the mountains, hills and trees will rejoice when a thirsty seeker accepts God’s free invitation, surely Big Momma and her twin boys will be there too. In the meantime, spring is almost here, the wildflowers are pushing through the chilly soil, and more sweet babies will soon be born. I love you, Big Momma.