(This reprised Ponders, a little early for Epiphany this year, is dedicated to my friend Paula, who recently had a squirrelly time--- but got de-squirreled a lot faster than me!)
From the very first moment of waking, New Year's Eve morning was a joyous time in our household. It wasn't because we had made it through what had been, at times, a difficult year for us. It wasn't because I was thinking of the First Night celebration we were going to attend that night in Akron
It was a joyous time because I was awakened by rattling in the attic. It was rattling in the attic as opposed to gnawing in the attic. Yes, a visitor had decided to hunker down for the winter in our attic. I had been doing battle with the culprit for about six weeks, searching for the place he might have entered the attic, stapling the suspected hole shut, and wondering if the pesky guy was in or out when I sealed the hole shut.
I soon found out that he was in, but he was not at all interested in the peanut butter, corn nor walnuts I placed inside my cocked traps to tempt him. Meanwhile, the critter made noises in the attic such that you would imagine a grown man was in the attic with a hand saw. When I slithered through the tiny hole leading into one of the least accessible parts of the attic and lifted a bat of insulation, I discovered what that varmint was about with all his sawing. There lay about 50 walnuts, each with a dime size hole in it where the nut had been extracted. There too was about a half a pail of saw dust from the buzz saw teeth of this monster.
I say "monster," because that is what he became as time went on. In our minds, the creature began getting bigger and bigger, fiercer and fiercer, meaner and meaner. We soon began thinking that the roof would probably cave in some day about the time he turned his attention to a roof rafter instead of a walnut. If not that, then the house would be set afire when he severed an electrical wire. I began dreaming a recurring nightmare of the creature gnawing a hole through the ceiling of my bedroom and dropping down on me in the middle of the night in order to escape his prison. Don't laugh, he was right above us, gnawing away, the night we rented "The Shawshank Redemption" tape, and
that's how the guy broke out of his jail cell!
But you already know that this has a joyful outcome, don't you? On New Year's Eve morning. The rattling in the attic was this huge, mean, nasty monster that had plagued us for nearly two months. He was in the trap. The small dish of water recently added to the trap must have finally made him let down his defenses. I bundled up, got a pair of heavy duty gloves, and with heart beating wildly I ascended the steps into the attic ready to do battle.
What was it that struck such fear in us? A little gray squirrel, not even half grown. We had imagined him to be much bigger, much craftier, much more tuned in to the wiles of mankind: a seasoned veteran in outwitting people and wreaking havoc upon them. In the light of day, he didn't seem nearly as invincible.
Epiphany is the season of light. It comes as we begin telling the news of Jesus' birth. It comes as the light begins growing stronger and the days longer. Epiphany is the time when the light of Jesus begins casting its rays into the darkness. Epiphany is the time when we bring our monsters out into the light of Jesus and see that they aren't nearly as invincible as we once thought. What is it that's gnawing away at you, making you feel as though you are under attack, causing you nightmares and fear? Jesus has come to shed his light on that very thing. One of the TV experts I listened to during my ordeal said that if you want squirrels to leave your attic, turn lights on in the attic and leave them on. The squirrels don't like the constant light and will leave (if you haven't sealed up their escape route. Now that Christmas is over, leave the Christmas light on. Let Jesus shine on your fears and troubles. They'll soon lose their power over you.
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