A Predator on The Prowl

Only a melancholy mind could ruin such a beautiful scene. Leaving the house early, I felt my spirit elated by the coolness of the morning after the recent heat wave. I drove down the street relishing the brightness of the flowers, radiant with the morning sun. On one lawn I saw three young rabbits, this spring’s litter, chasing one another. Their circuitous romping was punctuated with intermittent, joyous bounces. Had she been with me, my wife would have exclaimed, “They’re so cute!” and just relished and enjoyed the scene. Not me. I immediately thought to myself, “It’s sad that very few of this spring’s rabbits will be alive come winter.” It’s true. I have seen the prowling cats slinking through the plat, the neighborhood hawk perched on the highline its eyes like a satellite’s camera mapping yards, and the owl gliding silently in the twilight. I cognately knew what the juvenile bunnies could only instinctively perceive; there were predators out to get them. I had my melancholy thought of their unlikeliness of survival because of my awareness of the predators on the prowl to prey upon them. You may call it a negative perception of the world. Peter calls it a stark reality. You may think it something that is better left unthought and for sure unsaid. Peter warns it is something to be mindful of and be admonished by. “Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour:” (1Pe 5:8). Although against the grain of some readers’ theology, to say that the devil preys upon the saved and often makes his kill, taking their spiritual life, is the stark reality of experience. We see it happen. I began to think of a large class of young adults I once taught. Many of them today no longer serve Jesus. Then there were the seasons in our church of people being converted by the covey. Their new life was apparent: Glorious testimonies. Evident life changes. Ebullient worship. Expressive joy. In worship, they were like the young rabbits running, jumping, full of life. Some time later, many of these were gone. Casualties of the predator. Not only do I have no intentions of engaging in the Arminian/Calvinism theological debate, I have no space or inclination to wrestle over the question of free will (I choose not to.) I only know it happens. I know there is a predator. I know there are casualties. I also know that the predator can be resisted. In fact, he will flee from the resolute believer who is submitted to God. “Whom resist stedfast in the faith, ...” (1Pe 5:9). “Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” (Jas 4:7). I know that one can choose to endure and will be consequently saved. “…he that endureth to the end shall be saved.” (Mat 10:22). And, I know God is able to keep the willing from being a casualty. “Now unto him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy,” (Jud 1:24). One thing we have that the bunnies don’t. Choice. We do not have to be a casualty. I cannot help being inanely trite: Despite the predator on the prowl, we can hop with hope.

A Predator on The Prowl

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