One of the simple pleasures of leisurely summer days is becoming better acquainted with my backyard and its inhabitants. In recent years, I’ve become “friends” with the resident chipmunks. They take peanuts from my hand and will, at their pleasure, run to see me when I come out onto the patio or yard. What am I to them? – perhaps just some gigantic, benevolent being who appears from time to time and provides food. I suppose it’s a relationship of sorts, but I would hesitate to call it an actual friendship, despite appearances. They know little or nothing about me, other than the fact that I provide food and mean them no harm. I talk to them as though they can understand anything that I say. They seem to desire my presence, but only as it benefits them.
They’ve generally become quite tame over the past weeks but they’re always rather hesitant to approach. Even though I’ve fed them from my hand hundreds of times now, they still appear questioning and cautious. Any sudden movement or noise will send them scampering off into the protection of the nearest shade and they may remain in hiding for quite some time before coaxed to come back. When I’m in the house, I’ll see them visiting the places where they’ve been fed, apparently hoping to find me – or at least the food I provide.
Even such trivial musings as these are not without significant insights. Who is God to us? – is He simply a large benevolent being who appears in our lives from time to time? Is our desire for His presence predicated only upon what He can give us or do for us? Do we revisit those places where we sensed His presence? They may not be shrines in a formal sense, but they hold an inexplicable significance for us. Is our gratitude limited to the immediate provision of a few things, when it should extend to everything that sustains us? What do we know of Him? Despite years of protection, provision, and answered prayers, we remain doubtful, questioning, and often fearful. Most of the time, we’re oblivious to His presence. When life takes an unexpected turn, is our immediate response one of panic and flight? Sometimes I think we’re no different than the chipmunks, scurrying about; taking little notice of anything outside of our immediate safety and comfort; remaining anxious and seeking only sustenance and protection throughout our very short lives.