I can hardly resist escape stories. Whether it is a baby bear stuck in a dumpster, or a fox with a bag on his head, or a deer who managed to live for two years with a tire around her neck, I ache to see resolution. I believe one exists. The fact that there is a video at all means that someone is watching. Someone who cares. 

This is the season when folks show up in corn fields for the privilege of getting lost.... and found... in a maze of maize. We took our kids to such escapades, feeling confident that misplacing our brood for twenty minutes or so in a farm is just the right amount of danger. Any shorter and it can hardly be called an adventure. Much longer and a mother's blood pressure goes up, along with the decibels in her voice. 

Life offers her own versions of entrapment. The government where I live is currently mired in the mud of an imminent shut down, that will adversely impact millions of people who hope to go to the grocery store next week. Other institutions I love have their own metaphorical tires around their narrow necks, trying to find their way out. 

The way I respond to those animal rescues is visceral. There are no witnesses to confirm this, but I think I stop breathing until the bear or deer is free. 

It is my prayer that God is as helpful as the people who took time to liberate an innocent animal.