I have two guinea pigs, Cid (brown) and Cecil (white). Also affectionately referred to as Coffee (Cid) and Latte (Cecil), because of their colouring, or Mr Meerkat (Cid) and Mr Cuddles (Cecil), because of their demeanor when being held. Cid forever has his nose in the air, looking around, afraid that he might miss something (ironic given that he has fairly poor eyesight). Cecil, on the other hand, will relax and snuggle up, feeling safe in your arms, sometimes even to the point of falling asleep.
I’m thankful for their ability to make me laugh, to teach me about love, to sense when a cuddle is needed, to wake me with their little conversations, to call me to get out of bed (either by tapping their water bottle much like royalty might ring a bell to request their butler, or by screaming out that they are hungry), to make me smile at their energy and excitement that makes them popcorn or race around.
And I’m thankful for the way that they make me appreciate part of God’s creation, that within these little (or not so little) fluff balls are creatures of love and joy, with their perfect noses and ears, cute tongues, powerful legs, sharp claws, and squishy love handles. To realize that even within something this size God took the time to craft their tiny hearts and place them inside rib cages, to place bald patches behind their ears to keep them cool, to create ticklish spots and give them a laugh.
My piggies are a constant reminder of God’s love, reminding me of the verses in Matthew 6 and 10, that we are more valuable to God than the rest of creation. My piggies were lovingly and perfectly created by God, so how much more lovingly must he have made me.