The Squirrels Ate My Sweet Corn

Nancy and I came home last night only to discover, by way of a corn husk lying in the driveway, that the squirrels in our neighborhood had raided our sweet corn patch. Nearly every ear in the patch was partially opened and the kernels of corn eaten as far as it could be easily accessed. I was distraught and angry. "How could they? They waited until the very day the sweet corn was ready to be harvested and then raided the patch before it could be enjoyed by the ones who planted and tended it. How could they?" If I had a gun in my hands in that moment I think I might have started squirrel season a bit early this year. Nancy was a bit more philosophical about the whole thing and suggested to me that the sound of a shotgun going off in town might disturb the neighbors and probably wouldn't be satisfying enough to justify the end result - and reminded me that the squirrels were only doing what squirrels do . . . . to which I thought, 'Well, if I disposed of the squirrels wouldn't I only be doing what people do with pests?'

The initial shock departed and reality set in as, at 8:30 in the evening, we began to harvest what remained of the sweet corn crop. We put everything into paper sacks and brought it into the kitchen for processing, finishing our work around 10:00 p.m. It wasn't exactly the way we imagined our weekend ending, but then again, it wasn't exactly the way we imagined enjoying the fruits of our labors either. Still, the process gave me more than a few moments to ponder what had transpired in light of our relationship with God . . . and I think I will have to give the squirrels a break.

Isn't God's grace much like the sweet corn in our garden? We haven't labored over it. We haven't planted it and tended to it. We haven't sweated over the pounding it has taken from the many storms of life. We haven't brought it to the sweetness of its maturity. Yet, just when it is the most ready and we are the most hungry, there we are, standing at the end of the row with our fork and knife in hand, the butter bib tied around our neck, and our mouths salivating, ready to be first in line to get 'what we want and deserve.' What must God think of us? How tempted is God to be angry with us for our deceptive and less than honorable ways of getting what we want without ever having to make any of the sacrifices necessary? How easy would it be for God to 'lock and load' when we show up begging for the delectable nature of God's grace? And, how full of mercy and wisdom is God in receiving us anyway and understanding our weaknesses and foibles?

When I think upon Jesus as the sweet corn of God's planting among us, when I think upon my deepest need for His forgiveness and care, and when I think about the many ways I have yearned to receive of that for which I did not labor, I am incredibly humbled and repentant of my ways. I may not agree with what the squirrels did to our sweet corn patch, but I am glad they made me think upon my own dependency upon God's abundant nature. Maybe I just need to find a way to put the squirrels to work in the garden so that what they eat will seem more 'earned' than 'stolen', but if I do that, what will God require of me?!

It's something to ponder upon as I pick pieces of sweet corn out from between my own teeth.

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Don