"It's a glory to overlook an offense."
Proverbs 19:11
I'll pre-empt this post by stating up front that I do know some folks will say I'm only reaping the results of my own foolishness. Probably true.
Yet it's also true that our sweet interactions with the chipmunks, over many, many summers, have by far brought more joy than problems in the way these things usually balance out.
Mostly they are polite, friendly but not aggressive, and keep me company on the deck as I work or read. It's almost like having a pet, but you don't have to clean out the cage. And up until now, they have left my deck decor alone.
I mean, come on. Just look at that sweet little face! And their teeny bums bouncing down the stairs once they've stuffed their cheeks full of as much peanut as they can possibly, which is also so much fun to watch.
This year we have two very young ones in the mix, notably smaller than the others, a little unsteady on their feet even, legs falling down the cracks of the deck boards. They haven't had enough practice yet stretching out their cheek pockets to be able to put the smallest of peanuts in there, even when that's what they are specifically handed. They try but, nope. Oh my. Adorableness overload.
And.
My flowers!!!
They are eating the blossoms of my rock trumpets!!! This has not happened before, ever! This is my one go-to blooming plant because it usually does so well out on my deck. Very hearty, and attracts the humming birds. I have had no problems with anyone nibbling on these any other year.
But when we got back from our four days away, all the colour was gone. Before we left, I had had to shoo away a chipmunk or two from snacking on the smaller buds. So, even though I have no photographic evidence, no eye-witnesses, I'm afraid it's my sweet chipmunks, my little forest friends on the deck, the ones I pay money to buy peanuts for...those ones...they are the prime suspects here.
Sigh.
Nobody's perfect, I guess. Even the sweet cute ones among us. Whom, foolishly, or forgivingly, either one, I still provide with peanuts.
I had to bring the plants inside to see if they can be salvaged at all. Oy!!! Not cool. So, yes, my fine forest friends....it's a good thing you're so cute.
What this brings to mind, in it's own odd kind of way, are the complexities of community.
True that while I am here, I live somewhat in isolation. Being on an island is good for that. True that I am basically wired as an introvert, and the solitude that might drive others crazy is very much part of the charm for me.
Still, I am very well aware of the richness of my relational life, and cherish the various and wonderful humans that populate it.
But don't we all sort of, sometimes, often, tend to nibble on the blooms?
The complex and irritating annoyances we sometimes inflict on each other, either out of instinct or ignorance, or sometimes on purpose. The ways we seem to repay generosity by taking more than we're offered. The ways we can help ourselves to what's not really ours, or steal the colour from someone's deck without realizing it, or maybe on purpose. The ways we can behave according to how we're wired and not even realize how it's affecting anyone else.
And sure, I could stop with the peanuts and get out a spray bottle and do everything I can to discourage and frighten away all my little friends. I could claim the deck for myself and my flowers, and how dare any encroach on my space. Or even better, I could just stay inside.
But the deck is inviting, and lovely, and fresh, and wide open. Lots of life - not just chipmunks come to visit - happens out there, which enriches mine.
A needful caveat here. Some actions between humans cause intense damage requiring severe consequences. Sometimes people make themselves dangerous. Even Paul, a huge proponent of grace and forgiveness in community, knew that there were times when it was right to draw lines in the sand (eg. Romans 16:17). And even in lesser but significant moments of navigating interpersonal conflict, boundaries are important. Difficult conversations need to be had. Self advocacy is an essential skill. Honesty builds bridges.
Still, in the day to day ways we can bump into one another, in the little things, even the repeated things, even the really annoying things, I wonder how much gentler and generally happier our lives might be if more times than not we just might simply shake our heads a little, give a good sigh, move the plants indoors, and say, "It's a good thing you're so cute."
And really, while I'm thinking about it, I find I'm so very glad for all the people who all the time do the same for me.
So we'll see if I can revive the rock trumpets. I'll keep you posted.
