The Cry that Heaven Heard

It was a humid, pleasantly warm early summer morning. The skies were gray, heavy, threatening with rain. The birds were quieter, some chirping, but it was mostly a calm, contemplative morning. I had just finished my “Breakfast with Jesus” upstairs when suddenly, the peace of this morning was broken by a frantic chorus of barking and yelping, the racket coming from downstairs. I quickly arose from my desk, heading down the stairs with a quicker step to discover what in the world was going on with my dogs to cause such a ruckus. I came to the stairwell and stopped: there they were – standing steadfast, alert, and all in uproar, staring out the window of the backdoor. “What is wrong with you guys?!” They barely acknowledged my presence, panicking at something beyond the glass of their “barrier.”

I peered out the window, looking all over the backyard to see what could have startled my little “noise alarms” so (for they do insist on barking at every noise imaginable). After a quick perusal, there! At the foot of one of our trees, I saw a most curious sight. Not desiring to allow the dogs through the backdoor (and possibly interfere with what I had seen), I went around the house to exit through the other backdoor so that I could further investigate the drama I thought I had witnessed. I cautiously approached the tree, and saw before me two squirrels, both on the ground, in a bizarre entanglement. One was obviously a youngling, small, trembling, frozen with his feet planted on the ground, as if he had fallen from the nest and dared not move from his position. The other was a large, full grown male, and by the looks of it, was aggressive, ornery, and domineering. I initially assumed that the larger squirrel was there to assist the baby back up the tree and return it to the safety of the nest. But as I watched, it became evident that help was NOT this squirrel’s agenda. I was astonished by this larger male’s behavior. The baby squirrel showed it was fully capable of climbing the tree on its own, attempting to climb up the trunk numerous times. However, every attempt he made was thwarted by the larger squirrel. No sooner would the baby climb a few feet up the trunk, then the male reach up, grab his hind legs, and roughly pull him back down, then hover over him and press him into the ground.

While this debacle was underway, I heard a clatter and swishing of leaves from the branch above me. Another squirrel, I assumed it was the mother, began to descend upon the scene, my guess was to come to the aid of this younger victim. The larger male, however, scurried right up, pushing and thrashing mother about, until he chased her away.

Meanwhile, the baby made his way up the trunk of the tree some more and even reached one of the lower branches, but he did not get far; the male, returning from his distraction, came right up to the babe and pulled it down, down, down, to the ground, resuming his bullying.

I was repulsed! The baby was terrified; eyes wide, not strong enough to defend himself, forced to be the recipient to relentless punches and tugs. Every time he tried his hardest to get up the tree, the bigger, stronger, faster squirrel would knock him right back down. Moreover, the mother was helpless to come to her baby’s aid. Every time she returned, she was thrashed and driven away, prevented from doing the very thing her mother instincts were telling her to do.

I didn’t know what to do. I felt as helpless as the baby squirrel, wanting to do something, but not knowing what! I knew squirrels were aggressively protective of their little ones, but I had NEVER heard of a squirrel being aggressively antagonistic towards them! Should I interfere? How? Would the male attack me? What about the mother? In my sincerity to assist, I might be viewed as another enemy!

I did the only thing I knew to do – I prayed. I prayed for the protection of the baby, for the strength of his mother, and for the dispersement of the male bully. The drama continued for several minutes. The mother would come down only to be chased off by the male, and the baby would climb up just so high, only to be knocked down to the ground under further abuse.

In resignation, I began to back away, when, a remarkable thing happened. As the male was making another advance, the baby faced him head on, lifted his head, laid back his ears, opened his tiny mouth and (((((((SCREEEEEECH)))))))) He screamed! High, loud, piercing. The male jumped back, confused and bewildered. He stood there, blinking a minute, astonished that such a loud noise could come from such a weak and docile source. He began his approach again, and the baby opened his mouth, ((((((SCREEEEEECH))))). The male squirrel was stumped. He did not leave, but he did not approach either. Suddenly, I heard a thunder of pattering on the roof, and swishing through the trees. Then, ((((SWISH SWISH, CHEEP CHEEP CHEEEP, SCRATCH SCRATCH, CLATTER, CLATTER)))) the tree was shaking, swaying, leaves ripping, twigs cracking, a whirlwind of five or six squirrels came swirling toward the male aggressor! Within in moments the male and the other squirrels vanished in a clamor, into the trees, and over the roof, living the little one alone on the ground. For a few moments, the baby squirrel just sat there, waiting, pensive, eyes wide. Then, pointedly, steadily, it reached for the trunk of the tree, and climbed up, up, up, right back to its nest.

I was amazed! Though far weaker than his assailant, the baby squirrel had a powerful ally – the screech of his voice, which called his family to his rescue.

I couldn’t help but reflect upon the parallel of what we have in Jesus Christ.

“In my distress I called to the LORD; I cried to my God for help. From His temple He heard my voice; my cry came before Him, into His ears…He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes, who were too strong for me.” (Ps. 18:6; 17)

When the baby squirrel was silent, the domineering male was all over him. Pushing him around, keeping him pinned to the ground. Every effort to right himself was quickly frustrated by the rambunctious bullying of the stronger animal. But when he called for help, the tables were turned where the assailant became the victim, and the baby was rescued from his pursuer.

In this life, we will be confronted with all types of trials and struggles, inevitable misfortunes prevalent in this life. These tribulations knock us “out of our nests” of comfort and ease, and force us to make the decision to either get up again, or surrender to defeat. THIS is when the battle is waged, for the enemy, lurking around like a lion, waits for an opportunity to leap upon us in our weakened state, endeavoring to keep us down, pestering us with guilt, shame, despair, depression, aiming to subdue us in the bondage of defeat. Sadly, we let him do it, keeping our mouths shut, agreeing with his words as if they were our own, thereby, allowing his assaults to continue. Our efforts to “get back on our feet” are half-hearted and short-lived, falling prey to his assaults, which come in full-force at such times, he menacingly feeding our insecurities and fears, while we succumb to his badgering his words were truth. Our despondency grows increasingly oppressive, so much so that even our friends’, family’s, and neighbors’ attempts to cheer us or assist us, fall on deaf ears – we refuse comfort or aid because of the thick fog enveloping us, an immense veil of the enemy’s attacks, influencing us to believe that either we do not deserve any help, or do not desire it.

It’s a long vicious cycle, down, down, into a black hole of despair with no relief, no release…but there IS a way out of this vortex of gloom. The name of Jesus!

“At the name of Jesus, every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess, that JESUS IS LORD!” (ref. Phil. 2:10-11 emphasis mine)

Jesus’s name is above every name, throwing the darkest demons into the deepest pits of hell, dispersing the thickest fogs into the furthest oblivions, walloping the harshest bullies to kingdom come! We call on His name, and the enemy must flee! (ref. Jms. 4:7). Jesus will come to us, leaving the throne of heaven, with smoke billowing from His nostrils, His lighting bolts splitting the canopies, His rage crushing the mountains, charging into the fray to rescue His beloved from the mouth of the lion (ref. Ps. 18:6-19).

The baby squirrel eventually made his way back into the nest, from which he came, but only AFTER his enemy had been put away by the cry of his voice. So we, too, will be restored to our proper placement, and we will get back up on our feet, but only after we cry out to the Lord, Who will put away our enemy, saving us from his vicious snare.

“The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them; He delivers them from all their troubles.” (Ps. 34:17)