Devoted to Devotions

For the better part of 15 years, maybe closer to 20, I've been writing devotions for various organizations.

In fact, I'm writing more devotions today than I ever did. And that's partly because I'm a freelancer for one of the oldest devotional publications out there (Guideposts) and also because I write devotions without a place for them to go. 

All the time. Because I love them. 

Devotions are essentially short stories that pack a (spiritual) punch.

With my myriad of writings from articles, blog posts, books, and short stories, I've found that writing devotions is one of the best ways to keep my writing skills up. Why? Because, as a writer, being clear and concise - and being able to tell a story - are the key tenets to being a good writer.

Devotions do that for me. If I can't say it in 400 words or less, then the excess needs to go.

Having said all that, here's the reason I'm blabbing on about devotions: I decided (as of yesterday) to let my devotions out to the world. I started a Substack account (which is like a blog) and am posting my devotions there.

It's just me posting some organized paragraphs about the little snippets of God I uncover in my day-to-day life. Instead of hiding them in my computer, I now have a place to showcase them. 

If you're a God-follower, then hey, maybe this is something you want. Or need. A quick two-minute read before you start the day, or one to relax with at the end of the day.

If you're not a God-follower, this may still be a place for you to land at the end of the day. It's a glimpse into my life as a middle-aged woman, a mom, a wife, and a glimpse into the God I've put in the center of my universe.

If you're in the market for a little spiritual uplifting - one that is free - then head on over to my Substack account, called Olive Finch Devotions. I plan on posting one to two days a week.

I also plan on offering a daily devotion with a paid subscription (about $5 a month) but that's a little way down the road. I'd just like to give others something that I could've used years ago.

Short, simple, relevant, Christ-centered devotions. 

I can hear you asking, "Why the name Olive Finch?" Well, head on over to my Substack and find out for yourself.

If this isn't for you, no problem. I wanted to tell you about my latest endeavor. If you are interested, I would love to have you as a subscriber.  And if you like it, tell your friends about it. Share the devotions. Tell others about the Goodness out there.

If there is anything I've written that is worth anything in this world, it would be these devotions. And I'm glad I've finally decided to do something about it.

-Heather

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Feeling a Little Squirrely

I took a nice little walk around my neighborhood last week.

Here in California, a winter afternoon gets up to the “frigid” lower 60s, even in the middle of January. So, with the sun out, my work done for the day, and the fact that I was feeling a little squirrely having been holed up in my house for most of the day, I went out for a little jaunt.

I headed down the usual route, taking the simple circuitous route around my entire neighborhood, and noted the deep blue hue of our winter sky. Birds chattered, neighbors waved hello, and our ubiquitous squirrels ran the neighborhood like the little hoodlums that they are.

As I walked the loop, I watched a squirrel cross from one side of the sidewalk, stop in the middle of my neighborhood road, and stand on his hind legs—just like in a funny insurance commercial, I had seen years ago. 

I would venture to say most people think squirrels are on the annoying side of things. While they’re cute and small and scurry around the trees like ants on a picnic, there’s an element to them that can be frustrating.

Take this incident on the road in my neighborhood, for example. While it’s true that there were no oncoming cars, my street was quiet, and it had been the most opportune time to cross the road, it was still a tad exciting to watch a squirrel cross the road knowing full well they like to fidget and play chicken with every passing car.

This could have been the squirrel's last day. Or, it could have been like most days of its life, and one of fun frivolity, giving gest at every passing car, knowing we humans care about their lives just enough to swerve away from them as we drive by, lest we flatten them.

It’s also no secret, at least in my neighborhood, that we have hundreds of these squirrels. To the point that if one went missing, we probably wouldn’t notice. We’re so used to having them everywhere, over every tree, and on every roof, that we almost don’t see them anymore.

And yet surely, if I thought about it, I would classify these little animals as built-in pets. They run free in my backyard, traipsing across the back fence at record speed, playing with each other at a game of chase - a hundred times a day - with their friends, and even drinking water from my pool.

And don’t get me started on their food binges. With lime, orange, mandarin, peach, pear, and apple trees all within my yard and my neighbors’ yards, they gorge themselves on our fruit year-round, leaving the rinds behind as the only evidence of their feasting. 

These built-in pets (or is it pests) are just assumed to be a part of every household, and we share these pets with our neighbors, even if we don’t think of them as pets because they’re so common and are never missing from our daily view.

Our squirrels rarely go missing. In fact, our prodigious squirrels are hardy. So much so that even our natural wildlife – such as mountain lions and coyotes – take no pleasure in hunting these little ones down. Essentially, our squirrels have no predators and because of that have populated our neighborhood with seemingly a thousand of their fine western gray squirrel relatives.

Regardless of their lack of predators, this day I watched one frolic into the street, look at me, think about crossing to the other side, and then go for it. I saw him lean back and think about the meaning of life in the middle of the road. But, I looked away as soon as he headed toward the house in front of him. If you’ve seen one squirrel, you’ve seen them all.

Or so I thought. 

Most likely, he was headed to the grapefruit tree I just walked past. Or perhaps a cousin was calling him for a rousing game of hide and seek. Whatever his reason for crossing, I forgot about the little imp, glad I didn’t have to witness his fatal demise from a passing car, and went on my way until I noticed him headed for a sunny driveway. 

He scampered up the drive, headed straight for a corner where the garage door butted up against a support beam. He began to sniff the corner. For a moment, he had a distinct dog-like appearance. What was he sniffing? Squirrels have decent noses. Or so it’s implied. It’s why my garden has constant digging and re-digging of holes as my backyard squirrels try to find the nuts they buried in the fall.

This garage faced the southwest and the sun was setting in that direction in a few hours. Most of the warmth of the day radiated at that spot. The squirrel continued to sniff out the corner as if he was ensuring its safety. And then, in dismay, I watched him burrow up against the corner and garage door, tuck his legs in, and pull his tail over his eyes.

The squirrel was taking a nap. In the sun. In front of a garage.

I’d never seen this activity before and it made me rethink squirrels' appeal. Suddenly, my previous view of the raucous annoying creatures had shifted. These little things were adorable! Especially when there was a fluffy tail over their eyes. 

I snapped a photo of him on my phone (it was too far away and blurry, otherwise I would show it here) and shook my head. Though still annoying, I could let go of my resentment over them eating the fruit off my trees. How could I be upset at these cute built-in pets that cavorted all over the neighborhood?

After that walk, I sat outside in the sun in my backyard-- the same sun that the squirrel was resting in, too, at the same time. I’d learned two things on that walk: One, I’d been ignorant about squirrels my whole life, and two: when life is busy, slow down.

Take a lesson from the squirrels (a nut of wisdom, if you will): settle down in the sun and take a nap.

-Heather