Choosing a Direction

Well, it is almost that time of the year. The time when it becomes increasingly difficult to attract and keep my attention unless you have wings and feathers. May always brings the peak of migration to this area. Every day there is a bird to be seen that is a first for the year. Who am I kidding? Not a bird, many birds. And these are birds that often don't stick around for long. In particular, many warblers show up as night falls and take off the next morning giving the faithful only a brief early morning window to greet them.

This is also the time of year that I combine competition with birding. May 14th is the 22nd annual World Series of Birding. I will be there in New Jersey with dozens of other crazed birders competing for 24 hours straight trying to observe more species than any other team. This year I am captain of our team, The Friends of Salem Woods Wicked Witchities ("witchity, witchity, witchity" is the common description of the call of the Common Yellowthroat). The best we Witchities have ever done is 173 species and a 13th place finish. After the work of learning how to identify all these birds the real distinction between the top teams and the also-rans is route choice. With so many species scattered about the state of New Jersey, connecting the dots in the most efficient way is critical. That is not to mention the problem of uncooperative birds stealing precious time by not be present at the exact moment the team is there!

Of course, not all my birding is this intense. Indeed one of the most rewarding practices is simply wandering good habitat expectantly. This is something I do regularly as well. It is not unusual to show up at a site and have no particular plan as to where to go. That doesn't mean that I wander aimlessly and get lost. It may mean that I wander around to the point that I find it hard to return to the start, but that is different than being lost. I like to compare this type of travel to the way I think we should pursue our spiritual walk. When I wander like this I listen for voices, the voices of the birds, to choose the path to take. In our spiritual life we need to listen for God's voice to tell us where to go. Just like the birds, God doesn't usually speak so clearly that we have no doubt. Whether it is a matter of identification or interpretation, there is still a lot of guesswork involved. Only a commitment to following in the direction that the voice comes from will lead us to the increased experience that will make future discernment easier. I hope that you take the risk of following the voice of God in your life today…and every day!

The Shelter of God's Wing

One of the miracles of engineering is the feather On flight feathers, the veins coming off the shaft are barbed. These barbs interlock to create a seamless structure that is solid enough to sustain the bird in the air and to repel water. A wing full of feathers is a powerful tool, one that we humans at times envy. No doubt this is part of the reason angels are conceived as winged. A wing is also a welcome sight to a young bird. When confined to the nest, a bird needs all the protection it can get and a mother’s wing is sufficient for that task.

Whether shade from the sun or protection from the rain; a wing over a nestling’s head will do the job. While in the egg, a bird has a shell to protect it from the weight of the parent bird providing warmth. After hatching, a wing wrapped tightly around the clutch of young birds pulls them in to the warmth of the mother’s breast. The shelter of the mother’s wing also protects the young from detection by predators. Loons will ride on the back of their parents, sometimes completely concealed by their wings as they nestle down into the soft warm down of mom’s or dad’s back.

Seven times in the Psalms we read of taking refuge in the shadow of God’s wings. Jesus weeps over Jerusalem wishing that he could protect the people like a hen gathering her brood under her wings. This is a beautiful metaphor for God’s love for us. Some of the women of our church have begun providing a similar metaphor in the form of prayer shawls. These lovingly knitted shawls have begun to find their ways to people who need to find refuge in the shelter of God’s wing. Wrapped up in the warmth of the shawl, the hope is that one will also sense the love and prayers that have gone into its creation

There is one more way that some birds use their wings that demonstrates a remarkable form of love. Killdeer are most famous for this behavior, although other birds have also been known to demonstrate it. When the young are threatened, an adult bird will often feign an injury to its wing. Dragging along a wing as if it is broken makes it a more appealing target to the predator. Once the young are safe, the bird then is free to end the charade and fly off. Obviously, this behavior is not without risk. This should remind us of Jesus’ words that there is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. As Holy Week approaches and we draw near to Calvary these words have all the more power.