Lent Day 44: Porcupine

Last night as Stephen and I were getting ready for bed we got a message from our security company, Ensure, to say that there was a porcupine at the bottom of our garden. The message came with the above picture. While we scrambled to put shoes and coats on we watched the elusive creature rummaging around with the help of our camera monitor. By the time we got to the bottom of our garden it was gone. 

We then got a message from our security company (who obviously watched us trying to view the porcupine) saying that we must be careful because they are dangerous creatures. They were also worried about our dogs. We assured them that the dogs were locked inside. 

Two nights ago our dogs went berserk in the middle of the night and I immediately contacted our Ensure team who did a quick reconnaissance of the footage and confirmed that it might have been the security guard walking across the Kearsney field who kick started their response. 

Our Ensure team also warn us when it's going to be a hot day and remind us to leave ample water for our dogs. Despite the fact that we have two female jack russels the Ensure team refer to our dogs as 'the boys'. And we get regular updates about what 'the boys' get up to during the day. 

They also spotted a pair of genets a few months ago which was most exciting. And they also sent a congratulations message to our 'little princess' when she managed to open our front gate for the first time. 

For some this may sound a bit Big Brotherish - specially if you don't live in South Africa - but our cameras are only aimed at our front gate and the wild parts of our property that border the Kearsney conservancy at the bottom of the garden, hence the fair amount of wild creatures frequenting the lower half of our massive property. We live our lives free of surveillance but I do sleep a lot better at night knowing that someone is watching over us. 

And the funny thing is that I have no idea who these men and woman are who are keeping us safe, who are invested in our animals, who enjoy the nocturnal night life at the bottom of our garden. They watch us leave every day to go to school, they know that I have a ritual of praying over the car that contains my husband and children as they drive off for the day, they know when I sit parked in my drive way jabbering on the phone with my mom for a good half an hour. They've also probably seen me cry quite a lot - but that's not a rarity. They know the intimate details of our comings and goings. They could identify any one of us in a line up. 

And I have absolutely no idea who they are, how many of them are watching, if there's a team of them, what their work place looks like. More importantly I don't know who watches over their families while they watch over mine. I don't know when they are sad, or crying, or needing to speak to their moms. I don't know if or when they pray over their children. I don't even know if they have children. 

Last night as Stephen and I turned to walk back up towards the house after trying to find the porcupine I saw the giant moon break through the clouds (that have brought torrential rain for the last three days). The beautiful silver light bathed our home in a gentle glow. I knew that inside this house were two of my most beloved creatures, tucked up in bed and asleep. I also knew that it was a rarity to be up past my bedtime, at the bottom of my garden, looking up towards my slumbering home. 

Under the watchful eye of God's big moon I was reminded that, like our Ensure team, His presence is always there, always watchful, always cautioning, always celebrating, always guarding. If I can feel safe knowing that some strangers are watching over the security of my home how much safer should I feel knowing that God is watching over the entirety of my being? 

I may not know what He looks like, or how He knows the things He knows, or how His power works, or how His plans unfold, or how He can make good emerge from bad, or how He illicits hope from disaster but I know He does. 

And as my Lent season comes to a close my final prayer for those who have walked this 44 day journey with me is that you know how beloved you are, how closely you are being watched, how fiercely you are being protected and how abundantly you are being loved.