A Matter of Perspective

Turco and Caspian are cute. No doubt about it. Warm, smooth fur, one soft gray, the other brown, little rounded ears, inquisitive pink noses. When I first take them out of their cage and put them on the floor of the hallway, they run off to hide behind the cabinet in the corner. I'm a stranger, and though sociable by nature, they are shy at first. Then I sit on the floor and talk to them, and soon they stick their little heads out from behind the cabinet and come over to me. Since I'm no longer a towering figure, they perceive me as safe and are soon climbing all over me. Turco, the active adventurous one, climbs up my arm to my shoulder and nestles in the hood of my sweatshirt briefly before running back and forth across my shoulders. He tickles my neck in doing so, and I laugh out loud. Caspian, more of a cuddler, climbs up into the crook of my arm and lets me stroke his head before he scampers off down my leg. This day I made the mistake of wearing yoga pants, and Caspian finds the wide bottom and starts to tunnel up my pants' leg. It tickles, and, again, I laugh out loud before gently nudging Caspian back down my leg. He runs off to look for hidden food from his last outing.

I now pick Turco up off my shoulder and examine him closely. Perfect tiny little pink paws with minute nails. Silky smooth gray fur. I see tiny teeth beneath the pink nose. I am struck by the beautiful detail that God has put into the forming of these little animals, more evidence of His craftsmanship in the making of His creation. I let Turco go, and he runs to the end of the hallway where a large sheet of cardboard has been put to keep him from escaping into the rest of the house. He raises himself on his hind legs and sniffs and explores the edge of the cardboard, looking for any small space in hope of making his escape. Just for a moment, I see him from a slightly different perspective and I remember why some of my friends were horrified when I told them what I would be doing on this particular weekend. Turco and Caspian are rats...

Rats...not hamsters, not Guinea pigs, not even mice...rats...and not even white ones – a gray one and a brown one, complete with rat faces and rat tails that stick out from behind the cabinet and let me know that they are there even when I can't see all of them. When I had been asked by my neighbor if I could watch her two sons' pet rats when the family went away for a weekend, I said sure. I think she was surprised. It was only after my conversations with people in the days following that I realized that I was in the minority of people who would say “yes” to rat-sitting. Where I saw cute little furry creatures that has been perfectly formed in great detail by their Creator, complete with individual personalities, other people saw, well..., rats...

I got to feeling a little superior about my attitude toward rat-sitting. I don't know why it made me feel important to make it onto some list of “cool” people who were not afraid to play with rats. As my mind was headed in the direction of judging all those who couldn't see rats the way I did, I was brought back down to earth from my lofty pinnacle of rat-coolness by the still, small voice of their Creator. His question to me - how was my own perspective toward His other creatures? Do I always see the Creator's craftsmanship in His other creations, animal or human, the uniqueness of their individual personalities, the details of how they were made? Or do I see...rats? How delighted, or even willing, am I to just sit and let someone run all over me because that's what that person needs to do right now? Am I able to laugh out loud when my personal space is invaded by scampering people, or do I cringe and seek to avoid them? Am I consistently able to over look those little flaws and negative associations we all have attached to ourselves in some way and see the marvel of creation we are to each other? Lord, let my rat-loving ways spill over into all my relationships...

Most of all, love each other steadily and unselfishly, because love makes up for many faults.

- 1 Peter 4:8 The Voice