Dead Rats Tell No Tales

 

This morning, a special present lay in the carport.  Sigh. I love cats, but sometimes I wish they’d bring home rubies instead of rodents.  Of course, those rubies would probably be stolen, so maybe not such a great idea. I wouldn’t do well in a maximum-security prison. Rex would balk at the orange jumpsuit.

Over the years, the cats have killed dozens of mice, rats, moles, voles, birds and, a crunchy cricket and one very large squirrel.  I should mention the first spring we lived in our house, lizards roamed the countryside.  Rex made short work of the scaly gray reptiles, ripping off their tails first. I’ve also seen Rex eat insects caught mid-flight.  Chloe, the feather weight, is our resident bird-catcher. Quite coordinated, our furry friends.

One thing I noticed about dead critters:  they get quiet.  No more flapping, squeaking, scratching, digging or chirping.  The varmints are d-e-a-d. Birds won’t greet the morning with trilling song.  Squirrels won’t scamper across tree limbs to power lines, dodging the street below.  Mice and rats, well, won’t burrow into our house.  Rex and Chloe put an end to their regularly scheduled programming. I always feel a little sad about finding downed birds.  I love watching them soar and dip and enjoy their songs.

As a human being, I’m on the predator end of the spectrum.  I’m rarely considered prey.  I do the hunting and gathering. Yet as a Christian, I know the devil considers me fresh meat.  He tries to discourage, derail and generally discombobulate me on a regular basis.  I Peter 5:8 says:  Stay alert! Watch out for your great enemy, the devil. He prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour.

Gulp.  The context makes it sound like El Diablo wants to swallow me whole. I don’t like thinking about it.  I get a little uneasy, considering somebody wants me destroyed. Satan would like nothing better than for all evidence of God wiped off the face of the earth.  What better way to hurt the Creator than to attack the redeemed ones, bought by the sacrifice of Jesus?

I must up my game and be on guard.  I need to pay attention to what I’m thinking about (Phil. 4:8) and how I speak (Phil 2:14-16).  I don’t want to end up spiritually dead, silent and still.  Because that’s what the devil does:  he silences us by making us feel impotent and unworthy.  He squelches our praise even as it rises in our throats. God’s plan is for us to be soaring above our circumstances, riding the current of the Holy Spirit, singing our songs.  That’s where I plan to be.

 

 

 

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