Squirrel!

I am currently listening to my favorite contemporary series (Jan Karon’s Mitford) on Audible as I drive.  In A New Song, Barnabus (the dog) runs away after a squirrel, whipping the leash from Father Tim’s hand, and scuttles under an iron gate into a forbidden, wild garden.  Despite his master’s insistent calls and commands to return, Barnabas heedlessly pursues his prey.

This morning I was feeling a lot like Barnabus, who finally came slinking back, eyes and head downcast, to sit at his master’s feet.  He knew he had done wrong (again), despite his love and devotion toward Fr. Tim, and had caused him grief and pain. (You can read what happened in the garden as Tim found it necessary to pursue him, uninvited and unwelcome, into that place.)

Sometimes we pursue our squirrels of gossip, retribution, judgment, rebellion, and even passive aggressiveness, into forbidden territory, heedless of our master’s warning, “Come back!  Do NOT go there! Heel! (Stay by My side!). Consumed by our emotions of the moment, we allow our flesh to reign supreme, despite the insistent call of the Spirit.  We put our hands over our ears like children, bobbing our heads from side to side saying,  “I can’t HEAR you...I can’t hear you...”

Then it’s morning prayer time, and our sorrow at our behavior catches up with us in the quiet of His Presence. He doesn’t have to say anything...like our human parents who sometimes sat us down and didn’t at first speak, yet the sadness in their eyes communicated more than a reprimand.  Thankfully, if we were blessed with loving parents, we knew their love was greater than any act of disobedience, and they only wanted us to become the people God planned and created us to be.  Even without the gift of loving and wise human parents, our Father is all that and more.

If we return to His side, repentant, He will say, “I forgive you. I love you. Let’s try this again” ...even if You had the same conversation with Him the day before...and the day before that.  Keep coming back, sincerely desirous of changing.  Embarrassed, maybe, but continually committed to heeling all your days.  You will not only find yourself changing, but you will also find that heeling brings healing, as well.