Abagail showed up in my office about a month ago. She was leisurely stretched out along the top side of my podcast microphone. She appeared boldly unconcerned with my presence and didn’t even flinch as I came to investigate. She was molting, as lizards are given to do, with no concern for the mess she was making on my desk. Neither was I, to be honest, as I was fascinated by her, and so we hung out a while and talked. She was a wonderful listener, therefore a welcome guest, so I setup a drinking water situation for her as she looked parched. I propped the office door open for her so once refreshed, she could return to the wild, but rather, she chose to stay where she was.
The next day I propped the door open again. She stuck her nose out and looked around, then, with her curiosity sufficiently assuaged, she ran back into the office. This performance was repeated each day and with a can of meal worms to snack on when the urge took her, she became less and less reserved. Each day I would regale her with tall tales of bravery and undying love. I even preached the gospel to her once and that she seemed moved by the most.
We became friends, as much as a lizard and a man can be, and each morning, like a loyal canine, she waited by the door for me to come to work.
Last Friday she ran outside like she often does, but she failed to come back in right away. I had a pressing matter to tend to, so I left her there. Upon my return I found her still nearby so I went over to her and picked her up. She just laid there in my hand. I gently pet the top of her head and she closed her eyes. And suddenly, I was reminded of what I always tell my kids when they try to catch every bug, reptile or animal they see. I tell them that wild things belong in nature. We can enjoy them and learn about them, watch and study them, but we should not try to possess them. They need to be where God made them to be doing what God intended them to do.
If my words are to carry any weight with those I love, I must lead by example. So I carried my dear Abagail outside, stroked her tiny head for a while, then set her down in the grass. She ran off without looking back and I felt profoundly sad. And embarrassed that I was missing a silly lizard.
I don’t know why God put her in my life, but I know that I have slowed things down and work, although pressing, must come second to spending quality time with my wife and kids. Everyone is getting older at light speed and while the money is needed, it’s not what brings joy. Only God can do that, and he gives our lives purpose in giving us others to love, serve and care for.
I think he might have sent a lizard to remind of that.
