Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage. – The Smashing Pumpkins

He has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature, having escaped the corruption in the world caused by evil desires. – 2 Peter 1:4

Just a few things I believe we have in common with raccoons:

Our desire for security traps us. Little raccoon figured it would be safer in our attic than outside where there are coyotes and such, and he ended up in a trap. There’s no real security in believing what we want to believe. The truth is our real safety. Even when we don’t like the truth.

We think the way out is to bring what we want in. Raccoon reaches between the bars for something that will change the situation. The answer isn’t out there. There’s not a thing we can change outside of ourselves that will free up the inside of ourselves.

Sometimes people set traps for us. That just sucks, no way around it. All we can do is learn from it. Forgiveness does not necessarily result in trust nor does it cure personality disorders.

We tend to attack the one that sets us free. Strangest of all, when we are given the opportunity to be free of the cage we tend to blame our Savior rather than our captor. “Why didn’t you come sooner?” We demand. “How could you let this happen?” We hiss, we scratch, we bite the hand that reaches in to save us.

When given the choice, we will often choose to stay in the cage. God who wants to save us is far bigger and more powerful than we are. If we are already blaming him for our captivity, how can we trust that he wants the best for us? Do we dare risk the great unknown?

One day in October 2011, I was sitting in a conference filled with church leaders and I had this overwhelming sense of a hand reaching toward me. I felt as if I was being poked in the chest, and an internal voice said, “Are you ready now girl? These are your people.”

A friend ran up to me after the conference, wide-eyed and excited. “What happened in there?” she asked. “I could feel something from all the way across the room!  You are called!”

Such an awesome moment. I cried. I was a babbling joyful giggly teary mess for the rest of the day.

And then I bit down hard on that hand.

Damn. It felt like way too much. Better to just avoid the thing.

But God never gives up. It’s five years later, and he still asks, “Are you ready now girl?”

God is always reaching his hand into our cages, despite our hissing and scratching, fussing and blaming and avoiding. He’s there when we peek out. He is patient as he coaxes us out. He is there when we are shoved out, and sometimes he even grabs us by the scruff of the neck and hauls us out.

Even when we bite, God heals.

That’s the Jesus story as told by a raccoon in a cage in my attic. The raccoon removal guy came and set him free.

Amen.