All Shall Be Well
June 29, 2011
Yesterday we found an ailing bird on our porch. My girls snapped into rescue mode, bringing birdseed and moving him gently into the shade, and diligently keeping our cat inside. But, despite their hopes and prayers, the little guy died in the afternoon.
Bridget tearfully told me that now that bird was getting to fly around in heaven with Jesus.
I did not enter a theological debate with her as to whether or not animals inherit eternal life, but simply nodded and hugged her.
And then she started singing Andrew Peterson’s “All Shall Be Well,” a song that we listen to in our minivan. Well applied, I thought.
We buried the bird in our front yard, and Bridget wanted to mark the grave with a cross, which we fashioned out of branches and leaves. Seeing the birds lifeless body lying there in the dirt was a quiet reminder of both the claim that Jesus made, that not even a sparrow falls from the sky that God doesn’t know about, and the grim reality of this tired, broken world. I’m glad that Bridget’s plaintive song will come true one day: all shall be well.