Roadkill

Roadkill – the remains of an animal that has been killed on a road. Dead, done, flat out gone, expired, Elvis has left the building. The longer the animal lies dead in the roadway the flatter, deader and less identifiable the animal becomes due to repeatedly being run over. You’ve seen them and may have even run over the remains of one a time or two.

Poor little animal. All it was doing was crossing the road on its journey when Wham! before it could even react it was all over but the crying. And now there it lies lifeless and alone. There are people whose job it is to drive around our highways and byways and do nothing but pick up roadkill. Can you imagine such a job? (I guess you really have to be the outdoorsy type).

I can’t imagine being in the roadkill-cleanup business but I can tell you it is a nasty job. And it is not for the faint of heart. In fact, I recently met someone who has this job. And I can tell you they are indeed very special and have been endowed with skills just for this type of job. You should see him cleanup roadkill; it’s an experience like no other.

While animals are the most visible and easily identifiable, animals are not the only creatures to become roadkill victims. I know because I am roadkill.

I am roadkill in every sense of the word. I am done, expired, laid out flat, completely run over - dead. The only thing alive about me at all, literally, is the beating muscle of my heart. That is all that has been left for the buzzards to pick over.

There is simply nothing left of me. Life has been beat out of me and I do not have the strength to get it back. I cannot pull oxygen into my lungs – that would require use of muscles that I do not have strength to work. I cannot smile or laugh – that would require joy that is too heavy to carry.

I try to think and focus on what to do next but there is no wisdom or discernment left to help me figure out my way and get up off the road. The only thing I have an over abundance of are tears – those I have in never-ending supply.

Sometimes death comes quickly to roadkill, sometimes the creature lingers, hanging on to life, struggling to live only to be hit repeatedly before dyeing. My death was like that. I didn’t know I had been hit at first, I only knew I was wounded. It was only after repeated trouncings did my body, soul and spirit expire. I have been down so long I no longer recognize myself.

How did I get like this? I always look both ways before crossing the street. As I lay here prostrate to the world I told God it was over. I told Him I was done. I was roadkill on the road of life and I, most seriously and literally, had no strength or way of going on.

I told God that if He had a plan for my life, if He had somewhere He wanted me to go or wanted me to see then He was going to have to get inside my body and be me and take me there. I surrender.

I told God He was/is going to have to be my muscles and my strength, He will have to be my wisdom, my joy, my love, my creativity, my energy, my will, my grace, my discernment. He will have to be all these things in me, with me, for me. He cannot just give these things to me because I no longer have the strength to hold them or receive them myself. His are much better than mine ever were anyway.

And that’s when I met the roadkill-cleanup specialist. God sent His Specialist to clean me up, restore me and bring me back to life. I am still by the roadside but I am able to sit up and breathe.

I am only able to write these words – tear free! – because I believe God is rebuilding me through His Holy Spirit. No other way to explain the difference in the last few days, not one thing has changed in my outward life. But really, I don’t need a worldly explanation, God already gave me His - He said He will always be with me in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. (Ps. 23) "Shadow of Death" - never really paid attention to that part of the Psalm before. I have now. (I sure am ready for those Still Waters).

Please remember to look both ways before crossing the street but if you happen to become a roadkill victim, don’t worry I know a great cleanup guy.

Sometimes death comes as a hit and run but sometimes death comes as a hit and restore.

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