I woke this morning to strange sounds near my window. Supposing it to be some wild animal drama unfolding just outside, I jumped up and peeked out the window.
Nothing.
Maybe a squirrel or bunny or bird is hurt and needs help, I thought.
So I got my gardening shoes on, thinking I'd investigate.
As I walked into the living room on my way to the front door, something small dropped off the couch and disappeared under it.
Uh oh. Mouse?
But it seemed a little big for a mouse.
I slid the couch out and the thing zipped under the loveseat.
I opened the front door wide, hoping I could flush the critter out. Then I moved the loveseat.
The thing sprang out. All furry and striped and cute. A chipmunk.
Did it go outside? Of course not.
We've had these things happen before. They never take the hint. They never take the most obvious course to freedom.
The chipmunk raced past me and on into the family room.
He went under the big, heavy chest that probably weighs more than my entire family.
I called Bruce's cell. He was already driving down to South Denver. I don't know what he could have done or said. Maybe I just needed someone else involved in this little drama. You know, we women can't even go to the restroom without companionship.
"It must have gotten in when I had the garage door open this morning."
Great.
So, for the past hour I've been getting the worst of this chase scenario. Both of my big sliding glass doors are open wide and flies are coming inside to investigate the yummy breakfast odors.
Fresh morning air beckons just inches away from the chipmunk's hiding place. Birds twitter on the big ponderosa just off the deck.
Even my broom handle, slid repeatedly under all the pieces of furniture cannot induce this creature to bolt for obvious freedom.
I wonder if we're sometimes just like this stupid little chipmunk. Solutions to our frightening crises lie out in the open, just for the taking, if only. . .
But we see only our adversary and feel overwhelming fear. Blinded to anything but our problem, we stew in it. We're stuck -- flattened, frightened, paralyzed -- under that heavy furniture.
We don't see the "door".
We don't hear the "birds" that signify freedom
We don't inhale the fresh air of newness and joy.
If only that chipmunk spoke human. I'd tell him, "Look, nothing bad's going to happen. But the only way to get free is to come out from under that couch. If you'll just trust what I'm saying, you can get out of this predicament."
"God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the
mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging.
There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy place where the Most High dwells.
God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day."
" Be still and know that I am God:
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth."
(Psalm 46 1-5 and 10) New Internation Version
God n me: A bi-weekly blog that encourages readers to see the glory of Jesus Christ in small, daily things, and to seek greater intimacy with Him.
Contact Me
If you enjoy my blog and would like to contact me, you may reach me at this email: dena.netherton@gmail.com
Some of my stories are published in:
A Cup of Comfort Devotional for Mothers and Daughters (Adams Media, 2009)
Chicken Soup: What I Learned from the Dog (2009)
Love is a Flame (Bethany House, 2010)
Extraordinary answers to Prayer (Guideposts, 2010)
Love is a Verb (Bethany House, 2011)
Big Dreams from Small Spaces (Group Publishing, 2012)
Some of my stories are published in:
A Cup of Comfort Devotional for Mothers and Daughters (Adams Media, 2009)
Chicken Soup: What I Learned from the Dog (2009)
Love is a Flame (Bethany House, 2010)
Extraordinary answers to Prayer (Guideposts, 2010)
Love is a Verb (Bethany House, 2011)
Big Dreams from Small Spaces (Group Publishing, 2012)
Love this Dena, and great photo's too!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Marja. I appreciate you checking out my posts.
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