CHAPTER FOURI have had many encounters with mice, and none of them were boring. In our old home on Nickle Street, in Cobalt, I was visited by one of the “wee ones” during the Christmas holidays. Never believe that old line, “Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse!”! I was only nine or ten years old at the time; my sister had a room adjacent to mine; my parents’ room was just on the other side of the washroom; my aunt Rita was home for the holidays; and it was late at night. In the closet, at the head of my bed, was a small, mouse-sized hole and my Dad had placed some poisoned seeds in my closet for the occupant of that hole. Under my bed was a toy garage, complete with instructions of how to build it and play with it. The scene is set! I never slept well at Christmas time ... too many things to think about, I guess. So, as I lay there in bed -- awake, this particular night, I had lots of exciting visions about the next morning and of how I would get up the moment I saw any trace of light through the bedroom window! I planned my pathway down the stairs, contemplating how to sneak around those spots that creak and tattle on you! As I was making my calculations in the dark, I heard a little scratching sound under my bed! I have always been good at envisioning things, and I could “see” in my mind just what was making the noise and where it was. So, once again, I started to formulate a plan but it wasn’t about Christmas delights anymore! I knew that the moment I turned on the light above my bed, the mouse under my bed would start running toward the hole in my closet. He may have had another hole somewhere else, but I was gambling that he’d head for the one that I knew about. My Dad had also cautioned me not to pick up any dead mouse that might be lying around the house, lest some poison should rub off on me ... so I had to keep that in mind too. I jumped up and snapped on my light! I heard its little feet scurrying along the baseboard toward my closet. Jumping from my bed and flinging open the folding door, I could see the little guy racing toward his refuge in the wall, and I lunged at him, careful to tear off a piece of the dry-cleaning bag that hung there in the process. And, as incredible as it may seem, I caught the little guy! I could scarcely believe my good fortune! There in my hand was my next pet! The commotion that I created did not go unnoticed and, since I had awakened everyone in the house, I had to parade around revealing the trophy in my hand! When I showed it to my aunt and my sister, they screamed and hid under the covers! When I showed it to my parents, my Dad told me to get rid of it by -- rather unceremoniously -- flushing it down the toilet! I was shocked!! How could he ask me to destroy such an adorable little thing?! I was, however, not about to disobey my Dad! In the washroom I stared at the tiny fellow while he swam around for a while. Dad was right; we couldn’t let it and dozens of its offspring take over our house, and yet it was so cute to me! There was no happy ending to this story, however. When I hesitated, Dad called out to me, in no uncertain terms, and I had to respond. In the life of a mouse, circumstances are more often cruel than not! The ultimate prey of the predators on Earth, mice seldom live longer than a few months. Their greatest weapon against total annihilation is prolific reproduction. Left unchecked by predation they can become a curse! It is then that they cease to be cute and frail. We need to know where they fit into life and we need to learn that even animals as small and seemingly insignificant as these have something to teach us. The White-footed mouse of the Boreal forest has something extraordinary to say to us! It is a clever survivor and it warrants our respect. When it is caught off guard and away from the security of its home by some arboreal mammal (marten, bobcat, lynx, fisher, mink, etc.) it performs a trick that is utterly amazing! If it is quick enough to get to a tree -- preferably a balsam or a spruce -- it will climb to the upper regions and then out onto the smallest branches. In its tiny brain there is the knowledge that these small branches will support it and not the larger predator! With deadly jaws only inches away, the White-footed Mouse will cling to the smallest branches quite literally “for its life”! Christian brother or sister, do you go out on a limb for our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ? If you do, do you rely on the Word of God to sustain you? So often we think that the verses we memorize and the concepts we learn from Scripture are so miniscule when compared to the task of withstanding the enemy of our souls. We are keenly aware that we are to “be self-controlled and alert. [Our] enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.” That we should “resist him, standing firm in the faith, because [we] know that [our] brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings.” (1 Pet 5:8-9) Over against such a powerful foe, we can feel too small. We can feel ill-equipped for the task. We can feel that words and faith aren’t enough! We can feel like the mice of the world -- prey for every predator and nothing more than food to ravenous jaws, spiritually weak and helpless beyond measure. However, we need only look to Jesus, “the Author and Finisher of our faith”, to see how words are indeed enough -- provided they are God’s words and not ours! And that faith is enough, provided it is faith in Christ and not in ourselves. In Matthew 4:1-11 the Son of God shows us how effective the Word of God is in defeating the devil. Words may seem small and we have often heard that “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me!” Don’t believe that old lie for the slightest second, my friend! The devil cringes and flees when he is faced with the power of God’s matchless Word. By using it to help us in times of temptation or by using it in overcoming anything that man or Satan can throw at us, we are exercising faith. As Calvin pointed out, “Our faith is really and truly tested when we are brought into very severe conflicts, and when even hell itself seems opened to swallow us up.”1 Our faith is truly seen as faith only when it is tested! But where are the debaters and the philosophers of this present evil age? They stand before us -- only inches away -- with threats and the foolishness of man’s intellect. Believing themselves to be wise, they have become fools for, as they bare their teeth to believers, they neglect to see their ultimate destiny bearing down on them from behind. The last enemy of all mankind shows them no mercy and as we cling to what appear to be the little branches of faith and the Word of God, we are eternally secure and they are hopelessly lost! The devil and his allies in this world have yet to realize the truth of what George Mueller said generations ago, as he caught the essence of Scripture: “Faith does not operate in the realm of the possible. There is no glory for God in that which is humanly possible. Faith begins where man’s power ends.” I would rather be a mouse in the hand and will of God than the strongest of men on his own, without Him! |
