Around 6:00 PM on May 14, the Wicked Meadow Loons were
standing on a stone jetty on Delaware Bay watching a storm moving in from the
west. We were also watching a couple of Purple Sandpipers hunkering down doing
their best impression of the surrounding rocks as well as the only Ruddy
Turnstone we would encounter that day. It turned out to be a pivotal moment. As
the lightning struck and then the rain, even some hail, started to come down,
it was obvious that some time would be lost in our 24-hour birding marathon
known as the 33rd annual World Series of Birding.
For the better
part of the next hour, the best we could muster was standing in a beachside
shelter hoping for a bird we had yet to record to fly by. But all was not lost.
While we didn’t add any species to our list during that vigil, we did a few
important things. First, we took a bit of the sting out of the situation by
reminding ourselves that we were on a level playing field; it was indeed
raining on all the other teams as well. Second, we did the most important
thing, we resolved to carry on. It is in those moments we chose not to throw in
the towel that we learn the most about ourselves, about what truly matters to
us. Third, we made a plan, quickly calculating which species we had scouted
where and how much time we had until darkness changed which birds we could
identify, we laid out what turned out to be a winning strategy. When we
submitted our list at midnight after the King Rail refused to call (which he
did at 12:15) the total was 190 species, a dozen species more than the team
that came in second.
There is strength to be found in adversity. Two decades of
chasing victory in the World Series of Birding, narrowly missing first place
the last two times I competed, made me want it enough to dig deep. A harsh
reality of an annual competition is that if you make a mistake you have to wait
365 days to correct it. Deciding in that moment in the storm that we would
double down instead of giving up was not only the right decision; it also was
the empowering one. Choosing to go for it, ignoring exhaustion and discomfort,
was invigorating. We found the stamina
to carry on to the finish, and then some.
It is one thing to choose to make lemonade when life hands
you lemons. It is indeed smart to make the most of a bad situation. But what if
you dug a little deeper and realized that with all this lemonade you could open
a stand and make some money as well? I truly believe that that sort of attitude
is available to us when we turn to God in our distress. When we cry out for
divine help God sends the Holy Spirit, which seems all soft, and quiet, and
innocent as a dove, but remember that it was this Spirit that blew out the
locked doors the disciples were hiding behind, literally got them fired up, and
gave them the power to go out and change the world forever. That power is no
less available to us today, if only we dare ask.
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