Our backyard is a gravel parking lot and here rodents have no fear nor shame. A squirrel we have named Sire is always there. I think he has made a home in one of the nearby trees and our cavalier sanitation keeps him around, hoping for a freezer burnt Pizza Roll.
Ben loves Sire and plays with him every afternoon. Sometimes I go out with him, but yesterday I watched the two interact from my bedroom window. A slight worm of thought came to me as I saw Ben give Sire some food, lure him close and when Sire was finished, Ben stepped back and began firing small rocks. Sire dodged any and all things thrown at him and perried when Ben lunged at him. Ben later told me he likes to keep Sire on his toes, that he doesn't want him to go soft.
Is it possible that from my window, watching Ben and Sire, I was witnessing a microcosm of God's love?
These past weeks have felt tumultuous, truly aboard an unworthy craft in a storm. Was it simply God throwing rocks at me? Keeping me from becoming soft or lazy? The humanitarian would dismiss Ben's hard love. Invite the squirrel into your home and give it milk, warmth, one would say. How many times have I wanted to be ushered into God's house, eat his food, sleep atop his massive rising and falling chest! Indeed to be calm and still in your creator's protection.
Ben's answer is clear and defiant. We pride ourselves for our hardship tempered qualities. The battle scars we carry make for the person we are, or wish to be. We are quick to point out the parts of ourselves which are carved out of wood, the carver often times an unseen force (read God). Keeping Sire lean and edgy promotes a fitness of character and while Ben truly loves that little squirrel, it is in his ultimate love do we find his abuse.
I am not ready for so many rocks, I think. There are some who would encourage the lunging and assaults as God's providence of love, but I would rather them stop. No more rocks, no more attacks. You don't need to make a place for me in the house either, just keep tossing out the apple cores and pizza crusts and I'm sure I'll be fine.
Ben loves Sire and plays with him every afternoon. Sometimes I go out with him, but yesterday I watched the two interact from my bedroom window. A slight worm of thought came to me as I saw Ben give Sire some food, lure him close and when Sire was finished, Ben stepped back and began firing small rocks. Sire dodged any and all things thrown at him and perried when Ben lunged at him. Ben later told me he likes to keep Sire on his toes, that he doesn't want him to go soft.
Is it possible that from my window, watching Ben and Sire, I was witnessing a microcosm of God's love?
These past weeks have felt tumultuous, truly aboard an unworthy craft in a storm. Was it simply God throwing rocks at me? Keeping me from becoming soft or lazy? The humanitarian would dismiss Ben's hard love. Invite the squirrel into your home and give it milk, warmth, one would say. How many times have I wanted to be ushered into God's house, eat his food, sleep atop his massive rising and falling chest! Indeed to be calm and still in your creator's protection.
Ben's answer is clear and defiant. We pride ourselves for our hardship tempered qualities. The battle scars we carry make for the person we are, or wish to be. We are quick to point out the parts of ourselves which are carved out of wood, the carver often times an unseen force (read God). Keeping Sire lean and edgy promotes a fitness of character and while Ben truly loves that little squirrel, it is in his ultimate love do we find his abuse.
I am not ready for so many rocks, I think. There are some who would encourage the lunging and assaults as God's providence of love, but I would rather them stop. No more rocks, no more attacks. You don't need to make a place for me in the house either, just keep tossing out the apple cores and pizza crusts and I'm sure I'll be fine.
posted by kyle at 6:24 AM
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