My husband, Cary, is from a rural town in East Texas. So he’s my warrior-hunter. A few years ago we heard a loud shrill screeching coming from the backyard. As part of our agreement when we married, he takes care of the outside and I take care of the inside of the house. This morning, I was grateful for that agreement.
I was getting re
ady for work when I heard Cary shouting and a loud banging. I thought, “What on earth? Do I call the police or the marines?” When I get to the back door I find Cary with the gutter downspout in his hand and a little squirrel sitting on the ground obviously dazed. Apparently, this baby squirrel had gotten caught in the downspout and Cary showed up to save him. Eventually, baby squirrel (we named him “Rocky”) scampered off, up the nearest tree and away from our backyard. But that’s not the end of the story.
Apparently, Rocky has a lot of relatives. Each year we have had more and more squirrels show up to claim our yard as their permanent residence. News must have gotten around not to run in the gutters, since there have been no downspout incidents with any of Rocky’s kinfolk. We’re enjoying our furry friends while wondering how many nuts have been buried in our backyard.
I like this story. I like the fact that God’s furry creatures feel comfortable to call our home theirs. I’d like to think we show the same care to God’s two-legged creatures when they are in harm’s way or encouragement when they are down and out. Isn’t that what we are called to do?
Psalm 104:24 How many are your works, Lord! In wisdom you made them all;
the earth is full of your creatures.
Tagged: courage, east texas
