04/30/2026
Thursday, April 30: Squirrel on a Wire
Across the grey rocky expanse, the squirrel knew the acorns were plump and delicious. But the big shiny machines that roared across the grey expanse moved at a speed the squirrel couldn’t comprehend. One of the machines had claimed one of the squirrel’s siblings and an older relative, too, smashing the squirrels to a pulp.
Looking over at the tree, the squirrel knew he needed the food. He was starving here, now that they had eaten all of the foods they’d … squirreled away… for the winter. Spring had come, and it was time for him as an older squirrel to help the family find food the way his father and his father’s father had before him. But the grey expanse was … dangerous. He wasn’t the fastest squirrel, and the great metal machines hummed by endlessly.
Up above the squirrel, a wire ran from one of the giant dead trees across the grey expanse to another dead tree on the other side. He had heard stories about brave squirrels who had scampered high in the air across the wire and came back with stories of more acorns than you could imagine. His father had done it once before he tangled with a savage raccoon and lost use of one of his front paws. But the wire was scary, and high, and it stretched out over nothingness. The fall wouldn’t kill you but the landing would.
As he traveled up the great dead tree, the squirrel realized that he’d become a better climber over the course of the winter. His claws were a little sharper and his grip a bit more secure. He closed the gap to the top of the dead tree and looked again at the wire. It wasn’t that thick, but he had climbed thinner branches on the oak trees. It moved a little, but not any more than a branch in a big storm. He reached out with one paw and gently applied pressure with his back paw. The wire didn’t move.
Out above the grey expanse, metal machines whizzing by below him, the squirrel made it halfway and stopped, realizing how high he was. Above him, vultures circled, waiting for the inevitable fall. He knew they weren’t a threat to him, because they were too… chicken… to attack while he was alive. They were simply waiting for his downfall…
The squirrel summoned to mind the stories of the oldtimers, about past exploits. He remembered the encouragement of his mother to be brave and bold. He thought of the times he had followed his father and learned how to climb, how to gather, how to carry large mouthfuls of acorns. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he opened his eyes and scampered across the rest of the way.
Returning some time later, the sun now beginning to set, the squirrel looked back across the wire. It seemed shorter than before, stretched out between the two dead trees. He chuckled to himself, almost choking on one of the fresh new acorns he had stuffed inside his mouth. And then he charged back across the wire, not a care in the world, intent on feeding his family and sharing the story of the abundant acorns on the other side.
*****
Do you ever feel like a squirrel on a wire? Sometimes life throws challenges at us like fastballs or “great metal machines.” But God challenges us to believe in God’s plan, to listen to those who came before us, and to boldly go.
2 Timothy 1:7 ESV
For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.
Rev. Jacob Sahms
