Lessons From A Squirrel

The tallest tree in our backyard has a broken-off branch where a squirrel I named Alvin usually lounges. This seems to be one of his favorite resting spots – his beach, his recharging station, and his place to download the latest episode of “Life is Good in the Country.” What it is about this knotted piece of cracking bark that intrigues him, I’ll never know. Unremarkable in appearance, broad, and leafless, it reminds me of a piece of wood that a wood carver would choose to shape and mold into a battering ram. Maybe it’s the stability and trustworthiness of this enduring branch that has Alvin so smitten, loyal, and at ease.

I’ve joyously watched him in this place from my kitchen window as he jumped from there to the next tree like a mini-Tarzan. But I’ve also watched him, envious of his I don’t have a care in this world attitude. During tough times, I’ve told him how blessed he is to have no overdue bills, no concerns about consistent work as an entrepreneur, and no worries about fluctuations in a retirement account. But I’m certain that he wasn’t interested in practicing active listening techniques with me as he ignored my “Woe is Me and Blessed are You” sermon and continued chomping on his nuts, apple, or whatever piece of food was his blue plate special of the day.

I have a question. Have you ever wished you were Cinderella’s fairy godmother, holding the all-powerful wand? I have. Not too long ago, I would have waved it over my life so I could swap places with worry-free Alvin. I received news from our mortgage company that our monthly payment would increase by $800 per month. I held my breath as a dizzy spell swooshed over my brain. “Surely that can’t be right!” “Did I just read an increase of $800 PER MONTH?” “That has to be a mistake, and they meant to say $800 a year!” I was in sticker shock, and the rapid-fire self-conversation was my mind’s way of trying to wrap itself around this shocking new reality.

I called the mortgage company, whose representative promptly informed me that our escrow was short because the county had been underestimating our property taxes. The email was correct, and they didn’t provide me with any reasonable options to relieve this hardship.

“Jesus, I need you!” I said as I began a prayer walk (really a panic walk) inside the house. “How in the world are we going to come up with an additional $800 each month?” Especially when my husband lost his full-time job earlier in the year, and one of his part-time jobs had recently cut his hours and pay.

In the following weeks, I went on many prayer walks both inside and outside the house. I knew I needed to rest in God and trust Him, but it was an intense struggle for me to reach that place of rest. It felt like trying to climb to the top of a 300-foot giant California redwood. Do I have any redwood climbers who can relate?

During those prayer walks, I wrestled with my doubts, fears, worries, and unbelief. They were roadblocks to my rest, painting a picture and telling a story of doom and loss.As I competed in this emotional and mental kickboxing competition with these vices, a scripture passage jumped to my mind, Hebrews 4:9-11 (NLT):

⁹ So there is a special rest^[f] still waiting for the people of God.

 ¹⁰ For all who have entered into God’s rest have rested from their labors, just as God did after creating the world.

¹¹ So let us do our best to enter that rest. But if we disobey God, as the people of Israel did, we will fall.

I gradually realized (sometimes, I’m a little slow) in a deeper way that faith is a place of rest, just like Alvin’s daily experience. As I fought the good fight of faith in my kickboxing competition, I was actually laboring to enter the rest God had already provided.

I reached that point of inward rest when I sensed, without any doubt, that there was a solution. I didn’t know what the solution was, but I just knew that I knew that I knew there was one. The soul-drenching peace I experienced assured me that all was well; not going to be well but was already well!

Here’s what I felt led to do, Friend. I decided to call the mortgage company back to see if there were any feasible options to help alleviate this hardship. A bright, cheery voice, with the name Sue attached to it, promptly informed me that they could divide the escrow shortage over 48 months to lessen the financial strain. In the end, Sue was able to reduce the payment to an additional $400 per month. “I’ll take it!” Isaid, gratefully pouncing on the offer. Four hundred additional dollars each month was still a stretchhhhh, but it was a far less burdensome stretch than $800.

“Okay, amazing. Now it’s $400 instead of $800. Lord, thank you for the $400, but how are we going to pay that?” It didn’t take long for the answer to appear. Two days after Sue finessed the numbers, my husband’s part-time job, the one that had reduced his hours and pay, asked him to take on some special projects with increased pay and hours.

As always, God proved Himself faithful and taught me that I can learn valuable life lessons from a cool squirrel named Alvin. Lessons like:

1. God comes through for those who hope in Him (Psalm 25:3)
2. If God feeds and cares for creatures like squirrels, how much more will He take care of me, His beloved daughter (Matthew 6:25-34)
3. Faith is a place of rest (Hebrews 4:9-11)
4. We walk and live by faith (2 Corinthians 5:7, Romans 1:17)
5. While I was trying to figure it out, God had already worked it out (Romans 8:28)

May your life be enriched and your soul quenched by the lessons our Heavenly Father is teaching you through your very own Alvin.

Love & Joy,

Felicia

Meet our Guest Author:

Felicia Harris-Russell has dedicated over 35 years to serving in various roles within Christian ministry. Her passion is helping people develop a joyful and intimate relationship with Jesus and become disciples—those who actively live out His teachings and reflect His image on Earth. She lives in Georgia with her husband, Ben, and her pet bunny, Christmas. Some of her favorite things include reading, watching mysteries, working on jigsaw puzzles, walking in the park, and enjoying generous scoops of vanilla ice cream.

Felicia can be found writing at https://www.feliciaharrisrussell.com