It was the oddest thing. Strangers kept walking past my yard and asking me if my bunny was loose. “Bunny,” I’d reply, “I don’t own a bunny.” And each time, I’d remember back to the days when I was happily owned by a bun. Early one morning I peered out my living room window and there she was hiding between the arbor and the rose bush. The smallest little furry creature with a white tipped nose.
Each morning I’d meet her on the steps of my cottage with a hand full of peanuts, papaya, or carrots.
You see, I know the way into a bunny’s heart…
I learned their secrets long ago…
they, like me, have a terrible sweet tooth!!
At first she was shy, as all bunnies are, but it wasn’t long before we were the best of friends.
Working in the front yard became a joy again, as I watched her dance across the yard with her little ears flopping to and fro. She was never far from view.
I worried about her little life because of the hawks by day, but failed to remember the big white barn owl that soared by night.
One evening hubby and I went out for a bite to eat and as always she greeted us on the path that leads from our door. When we returned home she was gone.
The next morning I went out to search for her. I looked beneath the roses, behind the hedge, in the neighbors yard, and every other place where a bun would hide. I never found her.
I couldn’t walk out the door without looking, searching, wondering what had happened to my little furry friend. And each time I felt as if a piece of my heart was breaking all over again.
The following Sunday hubby and I decided to attend the evening service. After communion they dimmed the lights and our pastor asked us to spend some quiet time with the Lord. Whatever was on our heart…bring it to Him and lay it at His feet.
All I could think of was the little bun that graced my life for such a short time. I wept quietly in my heart and begged Him to help me to stop searching for her every time I went out my door. And in the quiet I heard Him whisper, “Where have you gone, my little lost lamb? I have been searching for you.”
I realized then that I, like Peter, had decided to follow at a safe distance.
Now I’m finding my way back home.
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