Pip, Chip and Theodore

Over the past few weeks our cottage has been steadily collecting tenants. Unwelcomed as they may be, our new roommates have settled quite comfortably into their new home where they are apparently warm, dry and well fed. As a general statement they keep to themselves – they don’t use up all of our hot water and they don’t blast their music late at night – but there is an odd combination of severe territorialism and a complete lack of respect for personal space that has created some tension between the human and chipmunk populations.

We’ve tried asking politely. Chip, please stay out of my dresser drawers. There are things in there not for rodent eyes. We’ve tried demanding our privacy. Theodore! Get out of my space! And stop eating the popcorn. When you start paying for it, you can have some. Until then, back off! We’ve warned, begged and threatened with no avail. Even our heavily overused air fresheners won’t keep them away for long. It’s getting a little ridiculous.

With professional exterminators out of the question, Pip, Chip and Theodore have thus far been able to postpone their inevitable demise. We only know of one chipmunk that has met his Maker in our home, if chipmunks do indeed come face to face with the living God, and that poor rodent drowned in our toilet prior to our arrival. (We buried him respectfully in a closed casket service provided by the nearest Wal-Mart shopping bag, the strength of my slinging arm and the forest behind our cottage.) But the dead ones are of little consequence to us now; it’s the ones that refuse to leave and refuse to die that really irk the spirit of our home.

We have run out of viable options. We have done everything we can thing to get rid of these vermin pests. We have been left with no alternative action.

This.
Means.
War.

Apartment 714 has turned into a battle of wit. By rummaging through our bedrooms, the Chips have learned everything they need to know about us, and have used this information to abuse their stealth powers. Desperate times are upon us and we have called in for back up.

Meet our secret weapon of superhuman handy-man skill: Carl. Armed to the teeth with nails and with a hammer in hand, Carl took immediate action with no direction necessary and in moments everyone in the house knew that Pip, Chip and Dale had stolen their last chocolate malt ball.

Perhaps there is a lesson to be learned from our experience with the not-so-friendly chipmunks of MBC; I have a professor who has said many times that a good story must reach beyond the fictional narrative and into the real world if it is going to be of any lasting influence, so allow me a moment to overlay the framework of this little allegory. Consider a simple substitution of title for each of these characters: Pip, Chip and Dale become Anger, Deception and Lust. If your life is open to them you won’t have to look far; they find their way toward the source of your survival (popcorn to prayer life) and ruin it, so slowly at first that you barely notice, then more and more directly until you feel like there is nothing you can do to stop the attacks. My personal efforts have no lasting affects and I feel not only invaded but also exposed, as though everything in my life has been tainted. Eventually there comes a point when you cannot help yourself any longer. You must call out for help or struggle forever in a winless war. So, who are you going to call? Not a handy-man, though the answer does lie in a carpenter...

The truth of the matter is that the things that hurt us the most, the things that get into the cracks of our will and corrupt the spirit are things that we invite into our lives; we ignore them or feed them and then fight the consequences instead of the root issue. The footholds of sin are secure; however, there is one who can free us from the burdens we carry and the messes we make... Carl used nails in the wall, Christ used nails in the cross.

So, I suppose this is the first of my “choose your own adventure” stories with a few possible morals and endings to choose from. The first is obvious; invest in some solid Tupperware and lock up your goodies. The second; protect yourself actively against rodents and the alluring snares deployed against mind and body... sin is attractive, chipmunks are furry and cute, both cause harm far beyond the mischief of the first impression. The final moral is a lesson I am struggling with on a daily basis; we are not created to be independent. God designed us to need Him, and as much as I love working on my own and trying to figure out the answers, there are times when I must, we must, surrender independence before we can ever be free.