Roadkill

There’s five pounds of possum in my headlights tonight. http://on.fb.me/1Nd6rJG

Sometimes life is messy.

Often life is messy.

When I lived in Louisiana a coworker explained to me the culinary philosophy of the region, in particular regarding roadkill.

“If it’s not moving, eat it. If it’s moving, try to kill it and eat it.”

Ew.

Sheriff Harry Lee of Jefferson Parish back in the day used to promote eating of nutria. Nutria aren’t usually roadkill … they tend to stick to the canals. They’re overgrown river rats, for those not familiar. The Audubon Zoo had a nutria tasting once upon a time. I did not partake.

Ew.

I fully support hunting. I think it’s great. Fill the freezer. I just personally, other than a little poultry, don’t eat a lot of meat. More for all y’all. And when there’s more vermin going to a good cause, there’s less dashing in front of my car when I’m flying down a country road.

Tastes like chicken. Check out this Bean Boys classic. Honestly, you haven’t lived until you’ve seen the mando player cluck the bridge. http://on.fb.me/1Yut7c4

Inorganic roadkill.

“Some stories take a little longer to unfold.”

I heard that in a Hallmark Christmas movie the other day. “Merry Matrimony” was the title, if you want to look it up. I remember it only because I wrote it down at the time. I vaguely recall the plot at this point, but you can be assured it goes something like … boy meets girl … boy and girl make googly eyes at each other for a while … conflict ensues about an hour and twenty-four minutes in … conflict is resolved twenty minutes later … followed by gratuitous closing wedding scene.

Sigh. That was lovely.

And so unlike real life. Hallmark is an unguilty form of escapism at my house.

Sometimes things aren’t wrapped up in a nice, neat package in a couple of hours. Or a couple of decades even.

Sometimes your calling looks very different from a made-for-tv movie.

Sometimes you become roadkill. Metaphorically at least. Sometimes you just feel like it.

Great green gobs of greasy, grimy hedgeapple guts …

Oooohh. Someone got that one good.

Sometimes you don’t get to cross into the Promised Land. Moses didn’t get to. And he was so epic that Charleton Heston played him in the movie.

Since then, no prophet has risen in Israel like Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face, who did all those signs and wonders the Lord sent him to do in Egypt—to Pharaoh and to all his officials and to his whole land. For no one has ever shown the mighty power or performed the awesome deeds that Moses did in the sight of all Israel.

~ Deuteronomy 34:10-12

And yet no one asks if Moses’ life was for naught. Hello, the ten commandments. The Red Sea. The Exodus. That pharaoh dude.

You may not feel like you’re all that, and indeed who of us really is. But God likes you anyway.

But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

~ Romans 5:8

And – although don’t miss the fact that faith and “being” are far, far more important than “doing” – he has things for all of us to do.

But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved.  And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

~ Ephesians 2:4-10

You may not feel like anything you do is epic. You may feel invisible. You may not feel capable of much. I don’t know that every little occurrence is hugely significant. I think it’s probably not. But isn’t all work for the kingdom, even the small stuff, epic in a way?

We are all pieces of the story. And some stories take longer to unfold.

Future roadkill. Some stories take longer to unfold.

Roadkill? I don’t know, it came to me in an epiphany. All photos in this post are from recent autumn walks around my neighborhood. Shout out to The Bean Boys for keeping everyone entertained with songs about roadkill and occasionally letting me be an honorary Bean Girl.

For more on roadkill from my writing partners, see Sue Bowles at bebold7.wordpress.com and Leisa Herren at life4inga.blogspot.com.