Grace and the Plight of a Mouse

by Wesley Strackbein

Last week, I was on my way out the door when I heard a pitiful animal-squeak from inside the house.

With the door half-open I turned around and paused; another high-pitched call.

At first I thought a bird had gotten in, but as I closed the door and walked into the kitchen, I heard the sound even louder. With no winged-fowl in sight, I then suspected a mouse.

Grabbing a yellow-handled broom, I opened the lower cabinets and looked around. A fourth squeak came that sounded right in front of me. After shuffling some can goods and a bag of chips, I heard another shrill lament.

It was at this point that I looked straight down. Right on the floor, not quite under the cabinet toe space, was a tiny mouse. The creature was so young that its eyes weren’t open yet, and it was lying on its side, quivering. This time I saw its little mouth shake as it made its mournful cry.

I immediately felt sorry for the baby mouse, as I realized it was lost and calling for its mother. I also knew that I couldn’t help the rodent in its cause; that, despite my sympathies, I had to put it outside. So I laid the 1½”-long infant (minus tail) on some rocks beside my front porch in 37- degree weather and heard it give one more faint squeak as I left for the day.

I had an important project to tackle which kept me away from home till 10:30 that evening, but in moments of down time, my thoughts turned back to the baby mouse. I knew it couldn’t survive the wet, cold day out in the elements. And, sure enough, it didn’t. When I returned, I saw that the little creature had crawled a few short inches before expiring.

Without God’s Grace, We Are Helpless and Hopeless

This helpless mouse’s plight has spawned a number of lingering reflections.

The first is our utter and constant need for God’s grace. The Apostle Paul noted pointedly: “. . . we are [not] sufficient of ourselves to think of anything as being from ourselves, but our sufficiency is from God” (2 Cor. 3:5).¹

Yet in our prideful swagger, we’re prone to think otherwise. We take our natural talents and the very air we breathe for granted, forgetting that, apart from God’s grace, they would vanish. The truth is, we only live and function by God’s allowance, “For in him we live, and move, and have our being. . .” (Acts 17:28). And whatever good we have is His gift. Paul, again, drives the point home: “And what do you have that you did not receive? Now if you did indeed receive it, why do you boast as if you had not received it?” (1 Cor. 4:7).

The Puritan Thomas Watson said it well:

All a man’s gifts, his pregnancy of parts and ripeness of wit, are borrowed from Heaven. And what wise man would be proud of a jewel that was lent him? I Corinthians 4:7: ‘What has thou that thou didst not receive?’ The moon has no cause to be conceited of her light for which she is beholden to the sun.²

We’re wholly dependent on God not only for our daily life and temporal blessings, but for eternal salvation. By nature, we are hopelessly “dead in trespasses and sins” (Eph. 2:1),

But God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love with which he loved us, Even when we were dead in sins, has quickened us together with Christ, (by grace you are saved;) And has raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus: That in the ages to come he might show the exceeding riches of his grace in his kindness toward us through Christ Jesus. For by grace are you saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast. (Eph. 2:4-10)

Left to ourselves, we have no path to life, but thanks to God’s “rich . . . mercy” (v. 4), “great love” (v. 4), and “kindness toward us” (v. 7), we have hope for salvation. And it’s totally His gift — it’s none of our doing — “lest any man should boast” (Eph. 2:10).

Consider the Prophet Jeremiah’s words:

It is of the LORD’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness. (Lam 3:22-23)

Apart from God’s kind grace, we’re like the blind, helpless mouse I found on my floor, but thanks to His compassion, we are sustained by His daily mercies. So let’s be done with our senseless pride and praise Him for this!

They’re Watching: Our Duty to Stand as Unwavering Examples

The second reflection that has gripped me is the important duty we have to be unwavering examples to those who look to us for guidance and help.

A few days before my mouse encounter I met my new nephew, Daniel Springer, who was less than two weeks old at the time. He is strong and alert for his age, and seemed to be taking it all in during his awake-moments I witnessed. Yet, like all infants, he has daily needs that are beyond his personal ability to meet, from regular diaper changes to feedings.

Thankfully, little Daniel has two parents — along with a cadre of extended family — who are answering the call. But as Daniel peered up at me with expressive eyes, I was reminded of more than the “sacrifice” of changing a dirty diaper; I was struck anew with how our conduct and witness is so critical due to those who look up to us. Others who are less strong not only need our practical help, but many long to learn from our example — and it better be a good one.

Prior to last week, this thought deeply impressed me four years ago following a message I gave at the Forge Conference in Kerrville, Texas. In the talk, I outlined five sins that fundamentally threaten the integrity of our faith, that — if left uneradicated — will destroy our witness and wreck our families. Included in this list were lust, pride, and ingratitude.

After leaving the podium, I was approached separately by several young men in their late teens and early twenties. None of them said much, but each one, in thoughtful but reserved tones, thanked me for the admonitions. I could tell that the message had hit close to home, and that there was a lot, left unspoken, going through their heads. Well aware that I had personally warred over the years against the sins I warned against, I was pricked by the urgent need to continually stand strong in each of these areas.

History is littered with the sordid fallout from men and women who know what’s right, but who blow their testimony before their children and others who admire them. Consumed by selfish pride, they temporarily lose their minds toward their sacred duties, because they would rather make “provision for the flesh, to fulfill the lusts thereof” (Rom. 13:14) than stay the course.

Dear friends, we don’t need any more such casualties. While we’ll never be perfect, we have a duty to mortify sins we’d rather justify and coddle, first to please a Holy God (1 Pet. 1:13-16), but second to serve as a worthy example to others. Paul directed Timothy to be “an example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity” (1 Tim. 4:12), and this should be our humble aim toward those who look to us for direction.

Children and those younger in the faith need more mature and seasoned Christians as stalwart guideposts. In considering the implications of this, Christ’s words should grip our hearts: “But whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to stumble, it would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck, and he were thrown into the sea” (Mark 9:42, NKJV).³

Christ’s Example and Mandate: Help the Hurting and Less Advantaged

The third reflection that’s been coursing through my thoughts is our need to show grace toward those less strong and blessed than ourselves.

On the same day I found the helpless mouse, I learned — for the first time — that a recently-departed cousin of mine had been born out of wedlock. This fellow Strackbein was 86 years old when he passed away and ran two reputable small businesses during his lifetime. As his son and I poured over old family records together, he reluctantly revealed this family secret about his late father.

I was sobered to learn that, despite the genuine love of his mother and grandparents, there were others who were less kind to this bastard son. This boy, born in 1927, had nothing to do with his illicit conception. Yet, growing up, he had to live with the sinful baggage of it.

After leaving my cousin’s, I stopped at a local Wal-Mart on the way home. There I saw a man whose arms were only a few inches long, which caused his hands to flop through his sleeves near his shoulder blades. I greeted him and made a comment about the chilly weather. He then, with a smile of chagrin, said that he’d just had to call for help to change a flat tire in the cold — and this after leaving an AA meeting.

The first word that came to mind — like a bad punchline from a pathetic comedy — was “loser!” Yet my second thought was one of genuine sympathy. Most likely this man was born physically deformed. If I’m correct, he couldn’t help it that he (virtually) had no arms any more than my cousin could help it that he’d been born out of wedlock. Though I don’t know what led to this ill-shapened man’s apparent alcohol abuse, my heart went out to him.

While we should never excuse sin, it is prideful and wrong for us to look down our noses at those with less honorable beginnings, or blessed circumstances, than we’ve enjoyed. Sin complicates life and leaves nasty scars — without a doubt. Yet it’s precisely because of this fact that those of us who’ve been spared the ugly sin-cycle that others have inherited, should show heartfelt grace and mercy to such needy folk.

Admittedly, such outward charity doesn’t come natural to me. I find it easier to be among my own kind — those who, by God’s unmerited favor, have had rich blessings accrue to them over a long season. I’m not referring to financial wealth (as this is not to be found in our family), but to familial and spiritual blessings that have slowly but steadily grown over time.

But Christ’s mandate is unmistakable: To whom much is given, much is required (Luke 12:48). And His example is most instructive: Jesus made it clear that He was His Father’s Son (John 5:19; 14:31). All the while, Christ’s earthly ministry was characterized not by Him flaunting His pedigree, but by Him ministering to hurting, down-and-out sinners. When the Pharisees scoffed at Jesus for this (Luke 5:30; 15:1-2), He explained that “They that are whole need not a physician; but they that are sick” (Luke 5:31), stating he was seeking to save “lost” sheep (Luke 15:3-7).

Conclusion

I never thought a squeaking little mouse would be so instructive.

It’s not that I’ve become a proponent for PETA: I’ve hunted deer over the years, have a stuffed bobcat I felled in my home, and, on more than one occasion, have dispatched a slew of chickens for the freezer. And I stand by all this, even now.

But watching this tiny, helpless creature cry for help really floored me. It has driven me to thank God for His unfathomable grace, to strive to be a better example, and to look for opportunities to help the less advantaged.

May we all take to heart these lessons and compassionately serve those in need.