I have no one to blame but myself. They looked incredibly adorable, sitting sweetly on my porch while blinking innocently at me. They weren’t begging for food, but I gave it to them anyway. Soon, their friends and relations came to the party. The word must have spread that the dumb blonde was supplying food by the sack full.
Then they began looking for more permanent places to hang out. My home and garage were quite acceptable in their cute, little beady-eyed estimation. By late summer, those darling brown squirrels and their offspring were literally climbing the walls outside my log home. And I was left wondering how much damage could these endearing little animals do?
Squirrels are said to be rodents with cuter costumes. Indeed. They chew, dig, and destroy as they build their comfy nests. I realized I’d been duped. My food offerings didn’t make us friends, nor change what they were really after. Time for an exit strategy. While there was still plenty of natural food available, I stopped feeding them. I’d invited this problem into my life. Now I’d pay for it.
As I pondered my squirrel predicament it resembled other areas in my life when I thought something was cute or fun or exciting, and then once I started “feeding” it, things got out of control. Eventually time brought the truth right along with the consequences.
Sin is like that. There are lots of sins to choose from and thanks to the computer you don’t even have to go far to find them. But just like pesky squirrels that make nasty nests where you don’t want them, sin does the same. The best thing to do with sins—is the same thing I did with the squirrels—don’t feed ‘em.
Yes, I still have squirrels hanging around. They look the same, but they’re no longer incredibly adorable in my eyes. And even though sin may look good, around here, it’s not getting fed.