The sign said “Found: Potbellied Pig.” Did I just read what I think I read? I’d never seen such an announcement. Similar ones, sure. But “Found: Pot Bellied Pig”? Who loses a pig? The sign presupposes a curious moment. Someone spots the pig lumbering down the sidewalk. “Poor thing. Climb in little piggy. The street is no place for you. I’ll take you home.” Me, I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t claim one. But God would. And God did. God did when he claimed us.

We assume God cares for the purebreds of the world, the tidy-living. But what about the rest of us? Do we warrant his oversight?  Psalm 91 offers a rousing yes. “Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty. The Lord says, ‘I will rescue those who love me. I will protect those who trust in my name!'” Even we, Potbellied Pigs.

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