As a young boy, my dad spent many a Friday evening in the auction barn at Green Dragon in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. His love of the place followed him into adulthood and when I entered the picture, I developed that same love.
I would traipse along behind him to the sales arena where an auctioneer rattled away in an unknown, but fascinating language, and always at the top of his lungs. Amid the commotion of animals and people, Dad would find a seat and settle in to survey the livestock and small animals being paraded across the sales area below us. I crowded close to him, leaning on his knee and begging him to bid on any of the small creatures that looked promising as pets.
On one such occasion, my dad was feeling quite benevolent, and he purchased a box of baby bunnies in varying shades of color and handed them to me. I watched over my little charges quite happily on the trip back home. Loathe to leave them overnight, I begged to take them to my room, but my mother would not hear of it. They would do just fine in the kitchen.
Next morning, I ran outside to watch my dad as he crafted a long, low rectangle wire cage with a tin metal roof covering one end, the perfect home for my newly acquired pets. The pen was a nifty one; lots of space for rabbits to grow and exercise but built sturdy enough to keep any predators out.
When their home was ready, I ran for my box of bunnies. Dad carefully lifted one after another out of the box, placing them in the spacious pen. They hopped about hesitantly at first but soon set to nibbling on the fresh grass that poked up from the wire floor beneath their tiny feet. I placed water in the pen for them to drink, proud that my daddy thought I was responsible enough to be trusted with this task.
All was well for several weeks. The small bunnies were thriving as we moved the pen over the ground near the old barn, careful to keep fresh grass beneath their feet.
Then one morning when I went out to water my rabbits, I found one lying in a corner of the pen. I could not rouse it and it moved stiffly as I prodded it. I watched the other bunnies hopping around happily and wondered why that one had died.
When my daddy got home from work that evening, I ran to give him the news. He walked to the pen, scratched his head, got a shovel, and dug a hole to bury my pet.
As the days passed, my young rabbits laid down and died for no apparent reason. Before long, I was left with an empty pen and the memories of my pets.
Years went by and the day came when my own young children begged for pet rabbits. Remembering my childhood experience, I decided we had better first read about the care of rabbits. It was then I discovered that they need a diet of both grass and grain pellets to survive.
If I had fed my bunnies a proper diet they would have lived!
Memories of my ‘rabbit revelation’ cause me to pause and ponder another curious thought.
What am I feeding my spiritual rabbit? What are you feeding yours?
Each day we choose what we will eat. Will we feed on the delectable, palate-soothing morsels that appeal to the flesh or will we take in the nutritious sustenance that Jesus offers us?
I am the first to admit that it is so much easier to eat what appeals to my own fallen nature.
I say I want to grow strong in the Lord. I desire to live in communion with Jesus every day. But sometimes his food tastes like vegetables going down. I am not a fan of vegetables, especially bitter greens. True, He gives me the Bread of Life, and I enjoy it. But the bitter greens of trials that help me to grow strong, not so much.
I look longingly at pasta and cake and cookies; these feel good to my senses. I can feast on them, and I don’t really notice any negative effects when I eat them.
Not at first.
Because, as in my rabbits, the deficiency doesn’t show up the first day.
But as time passes, the neglect becomes more evident, until one day I find myself too tired, too exhausted, too sick to even desire Jesus’s life-giving food. I am tempted to lay down and die.
Is that what I want? Is that what you want?
It is my choice. It is your choice. And those choices determine our future health.
Who wants to join me in feeding our spiritual rabbits the healthy, life-producing food that Jesus offers us in this new year? Who wants to stand taller, fight harder, and grow stronger in 2024?
I know I do. Chances are you do too.
So, let’s say “yes” to our spiritual vegetables and “no” to those empty, tempting cookies our sinful natures crave.
Come to think of it, I should probably do the same thing with my physical food.
Anyway, here is to your abundant health and growth, both spiritual and physical, as you feed your rabbit!
May 2024 be a year of growth and good choices for all of us as we open our mouths and let God fill them with life-giving morsels of His choice!
“Those who live only to satisfy their own sinful nature will harvest decay and death from that sinful nature. But those who live to please the Spirit will harvest everlasting life from the Spirit.” Gal 6:8
“…Open your mouth wide and I will fill it.” Ps. 81:10