Flashback Friday: Hamsters in our Midst

As kids, my brothers and I had countless pets. Dogs. Cats. Hermit Crabs. Hamsters. You name it. The present subject of this post involves the hamsters. They have some very special memories attached to them. We bought four to start with. 2 males and 2 females. Within about 2 weeks we had about 47, which is only a slight exaggeration. Madness most definitely ensued. They took over our house. (Please don't relay to PETA what I'm about to describe!).

One night the cage door to our VW Bug-sized monstrosity of a hamster cage was conveniently left open for our furry friends. The next morning, we awakened not to 47 hamsters, but to maybe a dozen (the few who would have connected to me heart-to-heart in my love for sleep had God made me a hamster). The other 35 or so were now walking the halls, enjoying dinner leftovers in the kitchen, playing with my SEGA Genesis, cruising in my matchbox cars, and ... somehow finding their way between the inch and a half of space between drywall and studs. Yes, they had found their way into the walls of our home. We could hear them scratching, gnawing, chewing, and dropping hamster pellets of digested drywall. But we couldn't get to them. They were utterly inaccessible. They had passed the point of no return.

Eventually, the squeaks and scratches of our wall-trapped hamsters trailed off. After about a week, the sounds dissipated completely. Gone. My furry fleet of hamsters were off to hamster heaven. Lost in the corridors of what appeared to be their way of safety. Their escape. Their life of freedom. Yet, the end was one of death, decay, lostness. There's a sermon illustration here, no doubt. I think you can see it. But I'll spare you. Instead I'll just say this: Read this verse and figure it out.