parrots and pilgrims

Recently I was re-united with our African Grey Parrot. She now crows “My Love!” when someone walks in the room. Her favorite person is a shy recluse; she has not bothered to learn any one else’s name. She can bark, meow, and run the microwave on cue. If she’d been with us these last two years she would know how to mimic suitcase zippers, alarm clocks, and a flight attendant. But because she is not exactly a carry-on item, she moved to a simple basement apartment where she has favored a dear friend with unconditional love. I’m reminded that God cares for sparrows, and large parrots, providing them with just the right haven in the Shadow of His Wings. And He does so for us pilgrims as well. I noticed recently that many of those outstanding Bible stories we remember happened when folks were on pilgrimage. Daniel was in a lion’s den. Paul and Silas sang in jail. Abraham worshiped God as he whetted the sacrificial knife. And God challenged Jeremiah, "If you have raced with men on foot and they have worn you out, how can you compete with horses? If you stumble in safe country, how will you manage in the thickets by the Jordan?"

These experiences were fleshed out en route, in exile, in jail, on mountain tops, and in thickets. So often I want for my flesh the same bed every night, a lock on the door, a place for everything and everything in it’s place, cleanliness, a schedule. I ponder how even the sparrows find a home, yet I remain en route. At the root of it all is willingness. The bird has no inhibitions that measures days and stockpiles all the worries that were meant for another day. She trusts and sings. She invests her love in those right at hand. From the tangled web I weave I’m seeking that quiet which accepts the order to fly as willingly as the order to nest; the order to sacrifice as graciously as the command to embrace blessing. As such I sense that I’ll have that secure footing to build bridges, span chasms, and race horses in thickets.  These can’t be achieved in the natural.  They are chiseled in our character by the one who provides for sparrows. As He completes His work in me I’ll rise up on wings as of eagles and laugh at the concept of weariness as I rest in the Shadow of His Wings.