Lord, Be My Shelter from Danger

by Mary Hill
Published November 9, 2005

I spotted a flash of turtle shell on the highway. My husband saw it too. He looked at me, swerved the car into the left lane, and made a quick u-turn at an island. We watched as SUVs and trucks raced toward the turtle. “I hope it doesn’t get squished,” I said as I spotted it again. “Pull over there.”

We waited as another car zoomed over the top of the creature who sat safely in the middle of the lane. I thought I saw its head for a second before it ducked back inside. My husband ran out into the highway after the lanes cleared, plucked up the turtle, and sprinted back to the car.

He put it in Katie Rose’s lap. My three-year-old oohed at the turtle. “Sweet turtle.”

“Let me hold it,” my second eldest, Megan, said, her blue eyes fastened on it. She took it from Katie Rose.

“I want to hold it too,” our oldest Stephanie chimed in.

“Here you better give it back to me,” I said after Stephanie held it for a minute.

Yellow markings swirled on its back. I guessed that it must be either a box turtle or Eastern painted turtle, but I am definitely not an expert in turtle biology.

Protective of our new find, I took the turtle from Stephanie. Showing it’s appreciation for rescuing it from the dangers of the world, including three overzealous girls, the turtle promptly peed on me. Everyone erupted into laughter.

“Well, that’s some gratitude. We go out of way to save you, and that’s the thanks we get.” I turned the turtle around, speaking to its hidden face.

Is this how we react to God’s sacrifice for us? We hide in our shells, refusing to look into the face of our savior.

An interesting fact about turtles is that the Bible never mentions these crawling creatures. The only references that come close are those of the turtledove, which is a much prettier animal.

Later, I released the turtle behind the church in a ravine filled with brush and pine saplings. I waited hoping to get a glimpse into the face of this creature we rescued, but it did not come out. I gave up because I did not want to be late for church. When I came back after the service, the turtle was gone. It must have crawled down the steep path into the woods. I hoped it’s shell offered him the necessary shelter from prey.

For a few minutes, I became the turtle and prayed with thanksgiving. Like the turtle, I have shelter in Christ from my problems. He plucks me daily from my storms and gives me peace. My prayer is that I not hide from my Savior as the turtle hid from me. I love the lyrical flow of the King James version of Psalm 25 that reads, “Unto thee, O Lord, I lift up my soul. O my God, I trust in thee; let me not be ashamed (and hide in my shell), let not mine enemies (birds of prey or foxes) triumph over me… Show me thy ways, O Lord; teach me thy paths (to safety and abundant life).”

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