A few years ago I bought my wife a tortoise as a gift. Why? A fit of madness, I guess. Predictably, I wound up being the caretaker of this reptile, which will now be a burden to my family for the next 100 years or so. Anyway, I began to absorb some lessons about how God relates to us from this phlegmatic little creature, which my wife named Lulu.
Lulu is inherently vulnerable, being small, docile, and extremely slow. Her only defense from predators is to retreat into her shell at the first hint of a threat. Sudden movement, noise, even a change in light will provoke this reflex. This makes her hard to approach. So instead of trying to come close to her, I’ve learned to pick her up from the back and bring her close to me. Somehow, this doesn’t provoke the defensive response: Suddenly I’m in her face, but she’s not freaking out.
God has often done a similar thing with me; I wasn’t seeking Him and didn’t see Him coming, but He moved me around without my knowledge till suddenly there I was, facing him. And it was OK.
I try to be gentle and slow when I pick her up, to give her time to process. But sometimes, for reasons I can’t explain to her—she is a reptile, after all—I have to be abrupt and quick. It's for her own good: The dogs are getting too close, or I’m late to work and need to move her in a hurry. And she just has to live with it. As we do, when life changes underneath us for no apparent reason.
Feeding the tortoise is another lesson. I have to set the food down where she can survey it awhile from a safe distance. When she moves forward, I move the food toward her. ("Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.") When she stops, I stop. After she sees that the food is no longer moving and not likely to attack, she’ll approach cautiously, sniff it, rub her cheek on it, check it out some more—and then, slowly, venture forward and take a bite. She follows this ritual, even if it’s the same red-leaf lettuce I’ve been feeding her for years.
I think animals were created to illustrate certain traits to us. With dogs, it’s loyalty. Raccoons? Craftiness. Beavers, industriousness. You get the idea.
And tortoises? Caution. Extreme, stubborn, incurable caution. And anyone seeking a relationship with a tortoise will need almost infinite patience. These creatures don’t do anything in a hurry—especially, change.
But, a relationship is possible. Nowadays, when Lulu sees me she’ll turn toward me and slowly extend her old-man neck. I can pet her gently, and she’ll eat readily from my hand. And in a strange way, it’s worth the hassle. I guess God feels the same way about us.
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