Flight Fare

I don't always have my camera along at our riverfront--and it's the "no camera" times when geese fly close enough for what would have been a great photo. Look close--a few are in the midst of changing the lead position.
Honk, honk, honk…before I even saw them, I knew that Canadian geese were headed my way. I scanned the sky and spotted their traditional V-formation, one of those marvels of nature. Flying in a “V,” with each bird slightly higher than the bird in front of it, is aerodynamic and energy efficient. Because this configuration helps the birds act as windbreakers and reduce drag, they have a 71% greater flying range than if they flew alone.

I also watched them take turns leading, falling back as they tired. I’ve learned that they travel 40 miles an hour (70 mph in a good wind) and can go 1,500 miles in 24 hours with ideal weather conditions. Whew! Just driving four hours wears me out, and I’m sitting!Then there’s the constant honking, like irate taxi drivers in the middle of a big city traffic tie-up. Even this has a purpose: to encourage each other to keep up the speed. Could geese (despite their habit of fouling lawns and beaches) teach us a thing or two? Maybe, that…

*God designed us for community. Sharing a common direction helps us progress in life. Loners have a hard time of it: “Plans fail for lack of counsel, but with many advisers, they succeed” (Proverbs 15:22). Community is better: “Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds” (Hebrews 10:24).

*We can’t do it all, all the time. Even Moses, to whom God accorded extra responsibility, realized his physical limits. When the newly-freed Hebrews battled the Amalekites, things went well as long as Moses stood on top of the hill holding up his staff. But when the eighty-year-old wearied and drooped, Aaron and Hur helped hold up his hands until victory came (see Exodus 17:8-16).

*Cheerleading is a group activity. In our fallen world, there are “takers” (people who drain us with their constant neediness) as well as “givers.” Proverbs 12:25 addresses all of us: “An anxious heart weighs a man down, but a kind word cheers him up.” It’s not just the idea of “buck up and keep going.” We need to remind each other of our spiritual calling: “For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do” (Ephesians 2:10).

One more goose truth. Sometimes a goose gets sick, wounded, or shot down. It’s not left alone. Two drop out of the formation and follow it down to help it. They stay until it can fly again, or dies. Lessons here: problems that disable us from forward progress become the problems of a few who must care for us. They must give up or put on hold their original plans for living out God’s will in order to “encourage the timid, help the weak, be patient with everyone” (1 Thessalonians 5:14).

Next time you hear honking geese, flying in formation, remember more than their amazing survival habits. Thank the God of creation, even of geese, for how He cares for you.

Parable of the Patchwork Blanket

(Over several decades I have sewn hundreds of patchwork baby blankets. Last week as I sewed another, I thought of a parable.)

I found you, Little Scrap. How long were you hiding in that messy bin at the thrift store? I have come to give you a new life and purpose.

Oh, thank you, Threadsmith. I have heard of you. But I wondered if you would ever come here. I mean, this is just one of so many places where rejected things come. The clothes, books, and furniture—they don’t stay here long. But my cousins and I wait, and wait. The bigger cousins are lifted out and taken somewhere. But the little ones like me—nobody buys us. Maybe it’s my crazy shape. I’m just good for nothing.

I don’t think so, Little Scrap. I know just where you belong.

Threadsmith! You paid so much more than I’m worth! Why did you do that?

Because you are valuable to Me. I wanted others to know how precious you are.

Oh,Threadsmith, is this your workshop? The machines, the cutting surface, the rainbow of threads, the drawers of fabrics—it is greater than I could have imagined!

Thank you. I enjoy creating, you know.

Ow! How can you do that to me? It’s so hot, this iron you’re pressing on me!

Trust me, Little Scrap, this is the first step. The heat will uncrumple your beauty and help me fit you into the bigger plan.

That’s better now, Threadsmith. I think I’ll just rest and cool off on your cutting board.

Hold still, Little Scrap.

No, no, no, what is that sharp thing? You’re hurting me, you’re cutting part of me off. Why are you doing that?

Oh, Little Scrap. I needed to trim away your raggedness. Parts of your “old” shape won’t fit into my greater plan for you. Look over at this pile of other scraps. They accepted the cutting away of what didn’t fit in My purposes. You’ll understand, soon.

Ouch, ouch, ouch! Now you are poking holes in my sides and joining me to cloths I never met. You know I’m not the social type.

My plan is that you live in community. Together you can do much more than you can alone. Keep trusting me as my needles stitch you to a pattern comprised of you and others.

Oh Theadsmith, there are dozens of us now, all joined. Ah, now there is a softness underneath me.

You cannot see it, Little Scrap, but there is a large piece of fabric at the very bottom. Then comes this cloud-soft batting, that you and those joined to you are now resting on. But we’re not done yet.

Ouch! Threadsmith, why are you poking big needles with streamers of yarn in us? Oh, it hurts when you pull.

Yes, I know the yarn is thick. I am using it to join what I call the fabric sandwich—the trimmed-to-fit “you” joined to others, the cloud, and the large piece of fabric. They cannot remain separated. The piercing is part of my plan. Didn’t you hear about my Son? Piercing was part of the plan for Him, too.

More poking? Hundreds of pokes around the edges of all-of-us-together?

Almost done, Little Scrap. Except I have renamed you. You are now Chosen Color, part of my wise plan.
----
“A patchwork blanket?” said the receiver of the gift. “You sewed this for me? Look at all those colors and patterns! It’s beautiful. I love patchwork. It’s a reminder of how God loves us despite our raggedness. He lovingly trims away so that we fit into His great, beautiful plan. Every square is unique but fits into the whole. How fitting that this is a blanket. Every time I lay under it, I’ll remember how I’m covered by His love.”

Pithy about paths

This spot on our local riverfront nature trail, its curve obscuring what’s ahead, reminded me of my own journey in life. Often I wished I could see beyond “right now” to my future. Could I get through college? Would I find a job? Would I marry? Would I have children? Would I get past this health crisis? God said, “Trust Me. Keep walking in faith.” Often as I prayed about these life changes and challenges, the assurance of Isaiah 30:21 came to mind: “Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it.’” The verse doesn’t say “sit and think about it,” but walk in it. Or as one line in an old poem (to my knowledge, its author is anonymous) puts it: “One step thou seeth: then go forward boldly;/One step is far enough for faith to see...In all thy journeying—I [God] go before.”

That God is wise in the path He plans is reflected in this statement by Amy Carmichael, missionary to India a century ago: “Often his call is to follow in paths we would not have chosen.” As a child, she prayed for blue eyes, not brown. As an adult, she realized her brown eyes helped her fit in with the Indian culture in which she ministered.

At least two aphorisms about paths from Africa have a lot of cross-cultural truth. One goes like this: “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” Those with go-get-it-done personalities want to forge ahead toward their high goals. But they’re apt to arrive lonely and tired. Through friendship, we spur each other on.

The other quotation has this as its key: “My soul needs to catch up with my body.” This quote comes from a story told in Mrs. Charles Cowman’s classic devotional, Springs in the Valley. (She’s better known for another, Streams in the Desert.) A traveler hired local tribesmen to carry his loads for a long journey. The first day they hurried and went a long ways, leaving the traveler hopeful for a speedy trip. The second morning, the tribesmen refused to move. They just sat and rested. When the traveler asked why, they told him they had gone too fast the first day. Now they were waiting for their souls to catch up with their bodies. How often do we rush ahead of God, only to need to stop and wait on Him?

In reading Richard Foster’s new book, Sanctuary of the Soul, I encountered yet another analogy of life and paths. To illustrate the concept of confession, Foster suggested thinking of a path littered with many rocks—some small, some large, and some partly buried so that their true size is unknown. “With compunction of heart,” Foster wrote, “we invite the Lord to remove each stone, for they do indeed represent the many sins and sorrows littering our lives” (pp. 65-66). Even rocks that represent sins against us must be pried out with the crowbar of forgiveness. Foster also reminds us that, in God’s perspective, the biggest sin-boulder weighs the same as the smallest sin-pebble. All sin is sin and offensive to Him.

One of my health goals this year is to walk very regularly. I have a favorite route in a residential area that gives me lots of “think-and-pray” time. Sometimes I pray for those who are afraid to follow God’s path. Other times, it’s for those who need patience. At times, the rocks along the way remind me of sin-rocks that need pried out of my life. And when life’s path curves, I’m reminded that as I move forward in prayer and faith, the Faithful, All-knowing One promises to “make your paths straight” (Proverbs 3:6).

Eyes on Eagles

Look just above the center for an eagle watching for fish in the river below.

Because our town’s riverfront park sits at the confluence of two rivers, it’s good fishing territory for sharp-eyed bald eagles. They sit in the winter-blackened skeletons of huge shoreline trees, their white heads crowning their dark bodies.The eagle’s status (and protection) as the national bird makes a sighting a special moment. I’m glad that Benjamin Franklin failed in his 1776-1782 campaign to make the turkey the national bird. Turkeys? He argued they’re native to America, and though a bit silly, actually very courageous and smart. One researcher claims 50 different signals exist among their gobbles, clucks, cackling, yelps and purrs.

Yet the Bible accords a lot of symbolic honor to eagles. Thirty-two scripture verses refer to eagles by name, others by inference. Among them:
He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust. (Psalm 91:4 KJV)
But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint. (Isaiah 40:31 KJV)
Like an eagle that stirs up its nest and hovers over its young, that spreads its wings to catch them and carries them on its pinions, The Lord alone led him; no foreign god was with him. He made him ride on the heights of the land… (Deuteronomy 32:11-13 NIV).

The symbolism of the Deuteronomy passage struck me when I learned something about the parenting practices of eagles. They begin building their nests (eyries) with a foundation of large sticks, thorns and odds-and-ends. Then come smaller sticks, grasses and twigs. Finally, just before the female lays her eggs, the eagles pluck their own feathers for a soft nest lining. The chicks hatch weighing just ounces. By three months, feathers have replaced their down and they’re ready for their first attempts at flying. The parent encourages its chick to try its wings by cutting back on food deliveries. The adult eagles may fly by with a yummy rabbit carcass, but not dump it in the nest for easy snacking. The parents also start throwing out the soft nest linings so the chicks find the nest increasingly uncomfortable. As the chicks continue growing, life in the nest gets crowded. Their only hope of relief is to try to fly. If they flounder on those first learning flights, a parent is right there to catch them. That’s the picture behind verse 11 (“spreads its wings to catch them”).

What a powerful analogy to human parenting! We nurture our children, and then make the nest “uncomfortable” as we nudge them toward independence. They may tumble a bit at first, but we’re not to hover forever and keep them from the rights and responsibilities of adulthood.

And what a picture of God’s amazing care for us! As we mature in the faith and step away from our immature comfort zones, He’s there to help us rise to new heights—to run and not be weary (Isaiah 40:31).

(For more eagle analogies, check out this article: http://www.ucg.org/christian-living/under-eagles-wings/ )