The Heartbeat

I felt pretty special when the vet gave me my own job to do. I was just a High School age intern at the Cherry Brook Zoo in my hometown, but I was given an important job. The vet had been called in to check on a llama that she had treated a while ago for a broken leg. The cast had to come of in order for the vet to check on the strength of the leg and that required her to sedate the llama. The zookeeper, the vet, and I herded the fluffy white llama into a small barn in the exhibit and prepared to work. The vet gave her a quick injection with a sedative and we waited. Slowly she sank to her knees, then onto her stomach, and finally onto her side. She wasn’t completely unconscious, but she was pretty close and not worried at all when the three of us surrounded her.

The vet straightened out the leg with the cast and prepared her cast-cutting saw. “Okay, I need you guys to hold onto her, just in case she starts to wake up and try to move around.” The zookeeper I was shadowing that day moved to hold the llama’s other front leg and her head. I knelt down behind her and wrapped my arms loosely around the llama’s torso. The wool was so thick, my arms seemed to sink into the animal’s side.

“Can you feel her breathing?” the vet asked me.

“Yes, I can. She is taking slow, deep breaths.”

“Good, you be sure to tell me if that changes, especially if she stops breathing.”

It made me feel so good to be helping with such an important task, rather than just standing out of the way and watching. I was fascinated as I watched the saw cut into the plaster and expose the wooly leg. Things were healing well but the vet was concerned about there being enough strength in the leg for the llama to get around in her rocky enclosure after having a cast on for quite a while. She decided to let her wake up in the barn and stay there for a few hours before she went outside again. After some of the amazing things I’ve seen this far in my zoo career, this simple cast removal seems a bit mundane. But it will still be the first time I helped out with a vet procedure on one of “my” animals, and that’s why it sticks in my mind.

Sometimes events are so poignant, or intense, or infuriating, or joyful that we remember them easily. Other times we need little things to remind us of specifics. You would think that having God come down and die a horrible death just to take away our sins would be an amazing enough thing for us to remember all the time, but Jesus knew what humans are like. He knew we would need a reminder. He set up that reminder during what we call “The Last Supper,” when Jesus ate the Passover meal with His disciples right before he would be crucified. He took a piece of bread and compared it to His body that would be broken and He took a cup of wine and compared it to His blood that would be poured out. It was to be a reminder of His sacrifice, one that was easy for us to replicate and continue to practice. Paul said it this way in I Corinthians 11:26 “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until He comes.”

My church practices this reminder, called communion, once a month. Last Sunday, we took unleavened bread, shared it around, and ate it together to remember His body. We then passed around little cups filled with grape juice to remember His blood. As I was holding my tiny plastic cup in my lap with both hands, I just stared down at the deep red juice. The lights on the ceiling were reflecting on the top as little yellow dots. I tried to hold the cup as still as I could, something I remember trying to do since I was young. Even though the cup wasn’t moving and I was sitting as still as possible, the yellow light spots kept jumping around. Then I realized why. My heartbeat, the blood pulsing through my fingertips, was making the surface of the juice vibrate. It was like that scene in Jurassic Park where the glass of water shakes in time to the T-Rex footsteps. But this wasn’t water. It was deep red juice reminding me of my Saviour’s blood. Blood that was once pumped by His heartbeat and was poured out for my sins. It was as if I was seeing God’s heartbeat right there in my hands.

And can it be that I should gain

An int’rest in the Saviour’s blood.

Died He for me, who caused His pain?

For me, who Him to death pursued?

Amazing love! How can it be?

That Thou, my God, should die for me?

Amazing love! How can it be

That Thou, my God, should die for me!

He left His Father’s throne above,

So free, so infinite His grace;

Emptied Himself of all but love,

And bled for Adam’s helpless race;

‘Tis mercy all, immense and free;

For, O my God, it found out me.

Amazing love! How can it be

That Thou, my God, should die for me!

No condemnation now I dread;

Jesus, and all in Him is mine!

Alive in Him, my living Head;

And clothed in righteousness divine,

Bold I approach th’eternal throne,

And claim the crown, through Christ my own.

Amazing love! How can it be

That Thou, my God, should die for me!”

– “And Can It Be, That I Should Gain?” By Charles Wesley

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2 thoughts on “The Heartbeat

    • Aww thanks. I started a novel as a teenager and worked on it into college but realized it had a lot of holes. I have another story idea but haven’t gone far with it, yet

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