Encouragement

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Peaceful Retrieval from the Pen

I was loving one of my cavies the other evening. In case you’re wondering, that’s a fancy name for a guinea pig. Just so that we understand each other, let me give you some detail.

A guinea pig isn’t a ferret, chinchilla, hamster or a gerbil. They don’t look like monstrous sized mice or have tails. There’s no wheel running, or spinning through rooms in see-through acrylic balls. They’re not silent little furries who appear to be curled up napping all day, while secretly laying plans to escape captivity by fleeing to the paradise of heating vents or dresser drawers. If you can imagine a small rabbit, minus the ears, you’ve got a pretty good idea of what a cavy is.

The newest addition to my cavy clan was relaxing on my chest. I call her Addy. She’s a golden red agouti. Her underlying hair color is a brownish-gray. But if you flick her hair backwards you will see flecks of red and gold on the tips. She is quite beautiful, I think. As I stroked the length of her shiny, silky body, she nestled down more and more, until she was almost pancaked flat against me. She loved this. We both did. However, I sensed a scolding brewing within me.

“Why do you wear yourself out running from me when I reach into your pen to pick you up? You love to be petted. Why don’t you just come to me?” Addy’s onyx glass eyes stared into mine. Her blunt nose twitched, her nostrils flaring rapidly. No reply. Did I really expect one? I know my pigs are pretty vocal, but the day I can decipher words…well...I don’t want to go there. But anyway, that’s when I realized—I was chastising Addy for the very thing I do. I’m that way with God.

God created me to have a relationship with Him. He wants to love me, be close to me, and spend time with me. He wants to hold me in His lap and rock me and talk to me. He doesn’t want or need anything from me. He just wants to love on me.

But I’m too busy for that. After all, I start work at 8 a.m. and have family responsibilities. I’m out of clean underwear and the floor needs vacuumed. A friend is waiting for my return phone call. I’m out of bread. The oil in my car needs changed. Weeds are killing my flowers and the paint on the porch is peeling. Tomorrow is my nephew’s birthday, but I don’t even have a card yet. Company just arrived. The Cavs are in the playoffs. I’m sleepy.

Or maybe I’m too afraid to let God love on me. I lost my temper and yelled at somebody at work. My language has not been exactly clean lately. A friend confided in me, but I told someone else. The paperboy never leaves mine, so I took my neighbor’s paper. A sad movie made me feel depressed and I drank too much. Somebody cut me off in traffic and my hand made ugly gestures. Loneliness overcame me and I found myself looking at a dirty magazine. Somebody needed to hear about Jesus, but I decided it just wasn’t a practical time for me. I’m afraid and ashamed.

When I’m finally too tired to run anymore, that’s when God gets ahold of me. We spend time talking while I share my worries and pains. He listens, understands and pours out His loving goodness upon me. I acknowledge all His blessings and bounty in my life and admit my total dependence on Him. I confess my sins and graciously He forgives me. I ask for His guidance and direction. I request His healing hand in my life, in my heart. I look into His word and His Holy Spirit comforts me while Jesus intercedes for me. We share wonderful time together. I know there’s no greater experience and wish it could go on forever. He reminds me that one day, it will.

But tomorrow, I’ll run around the pen again. Why? Addy had no answer for me. And I guess I don’t have one, either.

My wish is to one day be able to reach into the pen and pick up any one of my pigs without pine chips flying and claws flailing every which way. I hope one day all of them will realize that when I reach into the pen, something good is coming—there’s nothing to fear. And I have a strong feeling that God wishes the same thing about me.

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