The old cliche "between a rock and a hard place" came to mind as I listened to the retelling of a National Geographic film clip. Having been lured away from the herd, a wilder beast calf was in a race for its life as it was chased by cheetahs.
Being caught at the edge of the river, the end seemed near for the young animal. Death by cheetah. Not a way I would want to go. Suddenly a crock appeared from nowhere and grabbed the trapped calf. A tug-of-war pursued. Death by cheetah, crock, or being ripped into. Wow, the calf was caught between a rock and a hard place.
Amazingly, the rest of the herd had been watching and a few of the bulls ventured forth. They attacked. The cheetahs let go, the crock let go and here is the miracle, the calf lived!
All appeared hopeless and the calf lived in spite of being caught in an impossible situation.
Over the last few months I have faced situations where the outcome seemed grim. It's strange that the survival of a wilder beast can give me hope.
So does Psalm 33:19
"He rescues them from death and keeps them alive in times of famine."
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