The Squirrel

                “Casting all your cares on Him, for He cares for you.”
                                                (1st Peter 5-7)


We were camped in a group of light gray-barked Aspens whose dancing leaves fluttered in the cool breeze like tiny silver-tinted hands waving to us in welcome. Their trunks moved together rhythmically, slow-dancing under an electric blue sky that crackled as it painted passing clouds with shades of glowing azure and indigo.

Blue jays jabbered at each other like housewives gossiping across backyard fences. Gray squirrels hovered on the outskirts of the camp, fluffing their bushy tails, their bright, beady eyes watching intently for any invitation to freeload.

From an Eagle’s viewpoint, as he passed high overhead, the silver and gray tones of the small band of Poplars around us must have seemed like a tiny colorful oasis, almost swallowed up by the lush green Utah forestlands.

We couldn’t seem to relax and enjoy the natural beauty of the thousands of acres surrounding us, even though we had vacationed in places like this many times. We were a little tense.

It was June of 1977, and something alarming was happening in the ministry we had pioneered and pastored for the last nine years. We were experiencing revival and it was spiritually refreshing. The presence of the Lord was very strong, and heartfelt conversions were the order of the day.

In spite of the blessings associated with this outpouring, people began leaving the church. Their only explanation was that they felt “led” to go, but didn’t know why.

The ominous feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you’re falling, the sense that things are out of control, began to grip us. We prayed for guidance, but the heavens seemed silent. We had some vacation time, so we decided to get away and try to get a fresh perspective on everything.

In the midst of all this beauty that should have been a comfort to our hearts, my wife lost her gold wedding band. We searched frantically around the well-ordered campsite for two days, but with no success.

We were moping around when a particular squirrel began making a nuisance of himself. He was larger than his furry companions, and clicked and chattered more insistently than the others for treats.

When we snacked on wheat thins, he sat on his haunches brazenly demanding more than his share. He then carried each cracker off to some mysterious hiding place and promptly returned for more. We usually loved being around these little critters, but were in a bad enough mood that his clicking sounds were really starting to annoy us.

The next day was beautiful, and we were sitting and dangling our bare feet in the sparkling cool waters of the stream that flowed by the edge of our camp. We were distracted from our reverie by the squirrel that suddenly appeared by my wife’s left leg, trying to get her attention.

When she turned and scrutinized him with her best “if looks could kill” look, he scampered a few feet away, and began digging in the soft sand. He picked something up in his mouth, ran back, and dropped it at her feet. Tears filled her eyes as she peered down at the metallic glint of her gold ring!

We barely noticed as the squirrel clicked loudly for his cracker “reward.” What an answer to prayer! It was almost as if the Lord had a sense of humor, and was saying, “You thought I wasn’t listening, didn’t you?”

His faithfulness, in spite of our despair and unbelief, inspired our confidence in His ability to help us face the problems that waited for us back home. They didn’t seem so big any more. This was truly a packrat blessing!