A grandmother here in Sumter county had enough! She surprised her family when she walked through the living room with a shotgun in her hands. "Those possums are killing my chickens, and I'm going to fix this problem right now!" The family looked at each other and looked at her.
Outside she walked.
"Boom!", her shotgun went about ten minutes later.
And then she walked back into the house, carrying something.
The grandmother then announced, "Well, if I had known it was a mama possum with two babies by her side, I may would not have shot her. I guess now I need to raise them myself." Then she proceeded to show everyone in the living room two baby possums.
One died in just a little while. But the other lived. And the grandmother took it upon herself to raise it.
She kept the possum in a cage in her house. She fed it and kept it warm. And she would put a leash on it and walk it down the sidewalk like someone would walk a dog.
Visitors would come to see the grandmother. When they got close to the cage, the possum would hiss at them. But when the sweet, old lady got close, the possum calmed down.
That possum lived with her for 20 years. Then it died of old age. The grandmother missed her little companion when its time on Earth ended.
I've been thinking about that grandmother. What a special kind of love she had for that possum! She loved that which was dirty and ugly. Kind of like that love God has for us sinners who are morally dirty and ugly. With a heart full of compassion, God takes us in and loves us up.
That, my friends, is grace.