Reflections by the Pond
October 15, 2003

The Urge to Roam

They heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden. Then the Lord God called to the man, and said to him, "Where are you?" Genesis 3:8-9 nasbu

With the cooler, fresher days of autumn upon us, Thornton, our male cat, has revisited his seasonal habit of staying out past dusk--even all night. On its surface this may not seem to be cause for overt concern, but having already lost one outdoor cat (Mamma) to the dangers skulking out in the woods--probably coyotes--we are admittedly nervous about letting even the substantial Thornton stay out all night. We much prefer that he be back home, safe and sound.

So when the sun eases down behind the nearby hills and the boy is not yet home, we head out to look for him: calling Thornton's name out over the pond, out over the high grass of the front field where he likes to ambush unwitting mice, around the barn, down the long gravel drive--calling out his name into the graying light.

Thornton is, of course, lying somewhere out in the weeds, his attention turned to some small prey. Of course he hears us calling his name--but chooses to remain where he is rather than come running. And all the while I'm wondering why in the world he would choose to stay out in the chilly darkness, rather than be safely snuggled into his warm basket at home.

But then I wonder why I sometimes do the same. Why do I stay so long out in the tempting but inhospitable wilds when Jesus comes calling my name to return home? Why do I so often ignore His call, choosing instead the futile chase over the security of His arms?

"Do not run until your feet are bare
and your throat is dry.
But you said, 'It's no use!
I love foreign gods,
and I must go after them.'"
Jeremiah 2:25 niv

I know that with Jesus I have a safe and secure haven against the vagaries of temporal life. After all, He--though God--has experience with the temptations of the flesh, the call of the darker side of what it means to be human. In spite of His experience and willingness to help, I nonetheless sometimes tune my ear more to the whisperings of the flesh, rather than the strong, vibrant voice of my Savior.

What I hope to gain, I have no idea. I only know that my choice is as ill-conceived and shortsighted as Thornton's on those nights when he chooses a damp, dark field over a warm blanket, a full bowl of food, and a roof over his head.

Why should we tarry when Jesus is pleading,
Pleading for you and for me?
Why should we linger and heed not His mercies,
Mercies for you and for me?
Come home, come home,
Ye who are weary, come home;
Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling,
Calling, O sinner, come home!
(Will L. Thompson)