Summer solstice brings amazing tidal action along the coastline—real low tides and then large waves that bring all sorts of things to shore.
I carefully made my way over seaweed covered rocks, enjoying the hot sun. An eagle soared just above me, watchful for the next meal.
As I was about to place my boot on the next rock, I saw a stranded sea creature—a medium sized Dungeness crab. The tide was on its way out, and this forlorn crab wouldn't survive until the water's return. I knelt down and gingerly picked it up with her pinchers away from me.
Crab legs frantically moved in unison—the defense mechanisms kicking in against her anticipated demise. Yet, she didn't know I had a different plan.
I made my way across the exposed tidal flat, then bent down and placed the struggling crab in the water. She scurried into the kelp bed and was immediately hidden. I stood and looked back at the distance I'd covered. No way the crab could have ever made it on its own. And there were probably other stranded sea creatures along the shores I'd never see, but I saved one.
Okay. This isn't about saving a stranded crab. Sigh. It's about stranded people. While the debate continues over what to do with those on our borders, I'm thinking about those down the highway from me. Kids in poverty—just miles from my own front door. There's a Christian saying that God will do what we can't, while we do all we can. There's so much I can't do for children thousands of miles away, but I can do something here. And just like my token effort made a difference to a lowly crab, how much more could I offer a needy child in my own community?