No, it wasn’t a Balaam and his talking donkey kind of moment, but it had just as much impact.
It happened ten years ago. My school district had decided they didn’t need four speech therapists serving their seven schools. They would make do with three. Last hired, first fired. They served up my walking papers and I was told to clean out my desk.
If you work in the schools, you know the sweet spot for hiring in school districts typically runs from April 1 to August 1. I put applications in at every school district within a 50-mile radius, confident God would open a door and walk me into my next job. By the third week of August though, I was still unemployed. My window for the getting hired in was rapidly slamming shut and my stress levels were mounting.
In the midst of this, our youngest son Joey turned 8 and there was only one thing he wanted that year: hamsters. My husband and I ran the numbers: two hamsters, a cage, bedding, and food came with a $50 price tag. That’s a lot of money when you’re cashing the last of the paychecks and not seeing any prospects for another. But Joey didn’t understand the relationship between money and bills and persisted with his desire for these little pets. So, on August 6 of that year, Joey was presented with a hamster cage and a gift certificate for a pair of furballs.
The very next day, we were at the pet shop picking out the newest residences for our house that already had three kids, three cats and a Jack Russell terrier. Joey was warned to keep the hamsters away from the dog. Porthos was a typical terrier and had already walked a couple of rabbits, a squirrel, a few birds, a half dozen innocent stuffed toys and some mislaid socks to the pearly gates. We didn’t want Joey’s birthday present added to the list.
One hamster was named Heidi, because she liked to hide. The other was named Chewy. I’ll let you guess why. Joey would take them out of the cage and put one or the other into a hamster ball so they could roll around the house. The rest of the pets took a keen interest in those exercises. The door of the ball fell off once and Heidi escaped. Our cat Nelson quickly took the matter into his own hands – or should I say mouth – and seconds later we were prying the little furball free from his jaws. Joey taped the door closed the next time.
The combination of tape, eight-year-old, and pet doesn’t always lead to desired outcomes. Once again, a hamster escaped the ball – Chewy this time. Fortunately, none of the other pets were in the room when it happened, but robo hamsters are only a few inches long and extremely hard to find in a house littered with toys and furniture. Chewy was nowhere to be seen.
Joey was devastated.
I was distracted.
I had a job interview. Chewy would just have to stay in hiding and we would pray for the best. I put on my most professional outfit, packed a tote with examples of my work, and headed out the door.
A few hours later, I was back feeling deflated. The interview had not gone well. My mood didn’t perk up any when the kids started screaming.
“Porthos has Chewy! Porthos has Chewy!”
Great! I figured. Now I have a dead hamster to deal with.
I walked into the living room to see the boys sitting on the floor, where they’d been playing a game. There in the middle of the monopoly board was a very dazed, slobbery Chewy with Porthos standing over him, staring down at the stunned rodent. The boys were shocked, unsure what to do. I didn’t experience such hesitations. In two seconds, I was there swooping up the wet fur-ball before our dog changed his mind.
As I walked Chewy back to his sanctuary, tears started falling, and a voice boomed in my head as clearly as if someone had actually said the words in my ear:
“See? I took care of a $12 hamster. What makes you think I’m not taking care of you and your family?”
And suddenly, all the stress I had been feeling melted away, and every doubt had been erased. Yes, God had watched over my son’s hamster, and I knew he would take care of us too.
A few days later, I got a call asking me to come in for an interview. A few weeks later, I was shaking hands with my new principal. Two weeks after my last paycheck from my former school was cashed, I received the first one from my new school.
In Matthew 6:26 Jesus says “Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap, nor gather into barns: yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?”
Yes, we are.
And the God who watches over birds – and hamsters – is the God who also watches over me.
Thank you Lord Jesus
The Reluctant Firefly 