The man and the woman lived in a big house. After the children were married, it was just the two of them—at least that’s what they thought. They didn’t find out when the possum slipped into the garage, sniffed out the bag of cat food, noticed that the pull-down stairs had been left down, and discovered how cozy the attic was. The possum knew instinctively that the man was his enemy, but this opportunity was just too good to pass up. It was like living in a grocery store with a climate-controlled bedroom. Life couldn’t get any better than this for a possum.
At three o’clock one morning, the sleepless man wandered out to the back porch and discovered the possum helping himself from the cat’s dish. The man watched with disgust as the ugly creature scuttled into his garage and disappeared into a hiding place. He determined to put an end to this creature’s occupancy of his home. His house was big, but not big enough to be shared with a possum.
The possum was by no means the first to make the fatal mistake of becoming too much at home in enemy territory. When Christ was on trial, His disciple Peter followed “afar off.” While his Lord stood cold and exposed before His accusers, Peter drew near to be warmed at the fireside of the enemy. It wasn’t long before he had sworn that he did not know his Master.
How comfortable are we in this wicked world? Have we found a cozy spot in the enemy’s territory as David did in today’s reading? Are our bellies full of the world’s philosophies? Is our time spent with the enemy’s amusements? Beware! The enemy’s camp is a dangerous place to make yourself at home. That was the last lesson the possum learned.
I am a stranger here, dependent on thy grace,
A pilgrim as my fathers were, with no abiding place.
—from the Psalter (#424 in the Mennonite Church Hymnal)
From Paws on My Porch, by Gary Miller
© 2015 TGS International, PO Box 355, Berlin, Ohio 44610
Used by permission