We Are Like Birds - So Fragile and Vulnerable. . .

Just last week, on the way home from school, I was driving past Kent State University, the sun bright, blazing, and blinding in the mid-afternoon hours.  I had my visor pulled down over the top of the windshield so I could see a little better.  Suddenly and without warning, from the corner of my eye, coming toward the passenger side, I spotted a small bird in fast flight, as if it was being pursued.   I could not tell what kind of bird it was because of the brightness of the sun.  I let my foot off the gas pedal to slow a bit, but still the bird connected with the window on the side of my car and I looked through the rear view mirror to see him spiral to the pavement below.  Tears filled my eyes – I don’t like to hit, hurt, or kill any animals and I know that little bird’s life was cut short by his apparent lack of attention to the traffic.  Nonetheless, I felt so badly. I wondered if it was a female and perhaps she had eggs to hatch or her young to care for.  As I thought about the poor little creature, I was reminded of this poignant story.  It is reported to be true and I have no reason to believe it is not.

Birds are so fragile and vulnerable. These amazing photos captured a drama with two of these little creatures that is every bit as poignant and heart-wrenching as any human story. Kudos to the photographer. The newspapers that carried these photos sold out in every country.

HIS EYE IS ON THE SPARROW

"A female bluebird was hit by a car as she swooped low across the road, and the condition was soon fatal.

Her male mate brought her food and attended her with love and compassion.

He brought her food again, but was shocked to find her dead.

 He tried to move her - a rarely seen effort.

  

 

Aware his mate was dead and would never come back to him again, he cried out with adoring love . . . and stood beside her with sadness and sorrow.

 Millions of people were touched after seeing these photos in America, Europe, Australia, and even India. The photographer sold these pictures for a nominal fee to the most famous newspaper in France. All copies of that edition sold out on the day these pictures were published.

And many people think animals and birds don't have brains or feelings. You have just witnessed love and sorrow felt by God's creatures. The Bible says that God knows when a sparrow falls. Imagine how much He cares for us! Live simply, love generously, care deeply, give fully." (Author Unknown)

We are reminded of Jesus’ words in Luke 12:7 “Why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not; you are of more value than many sparrows.” His words are repeated again in Mathew 10:31.  These words bring solace when my life feels so meaningless and insignificant.  When you feel that no one cares, no one is listening, or watching, remember that your Father, your Heavenly Father, loves you and cares for you so much more than any earthly father could ever love his children.  Can you hear the soft words of Jesus, as He walks beside you saying:

 “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?  

Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing?

Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?

 Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’  For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.  

But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” (Matthew 6:25-33 ESV)

The next time that you feel that your life is meaningless or insignificant and that you don’t really matter, I pray that you would think of the story of the blue birds; be reminded of God’s precious, undying love for you for you are of “more value than they”.  (Matthew 6:25)

 Someone once asked Jesus, "how much do you love me?"  He answered just like this:

Soul's_Panting: God's Other Plan. . .

Soul's_Panting: God's Other Plan. . .

God's Other Plan. . .

More than thirty-three years ago, I married a wonderful man.  We had a mutual love for children and our hearts’ desire was, after taking some time to be husband and wife, to have children of our own.  If there’s one thing in the life of a child of God that is fact is that His ways are not our ways and they are certainly past our finding out. Isaiah 55:8-9 ESV “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

I immersed myself in full-time ministry for many years and side jobs to supplement our income.  It did not affect our marriage as we were quite happy and fulfilled in being about “our Father’s business” but I always felt left out whenever other couples with whom we were friends talked about and shared photos of their children.  How I secretly longed for that.  I remember doing everything and anything my girlfriends suggested for me to try to get pregnant, but it was not to be, not then, not ever. It was not in God’s plan. He had other plans.

Seven years after we were married, numerous disappointments, fertility tests, depression, and many tears, in His time, God blessed us with an infant son through the gift of a beautiful young birthmother whom we love dearly. “For this child I prayed, and the Lord has granted me my petition that I made to him.  Therefore I have lent him to the Lord. As long as he lives, he is lent to the Lord.” I Samuel 1:27-28. Our son was (and still is J) the apple of our eye and a very much loved child for ten years. He was also an only child for ten years. He often talked of brothers and sisters, but we told him how God had chosen him just for us.  There just had not been any brothers and sisters available.  Then, just before his eighth birthday, we were contacted about another possible adoption and our biological clock started ticking again which, after nearly two years of frustration dealing with the conditions of a foreign government, ultimately led us to a very l-o-n-g stay in Brazil and two new additions to our family of three – a six year old little girl and a five year old little boy, siblings.  

Many challenges lay ahead, at that point – many of which we were totally unprepared for.  We soon learned, first-hand, what sibling rivalry was all about and we quickly learned that not being able to shape and mold a child from his/her infant stages presents issues you cannot imagine unless you are the parent of an adopted older child.  When I was about at the end of my rope, God sent a Christian psychologist who was able to shed light on the things that were happening, but a very difficult road still lay ahead, one which would tear at our hearts and our relationship, a path that would lead us to the point I can lovingly write this blog. 

Sometimes it seems that I have spent my adult life trying to live up to the mothering standard set up in the thirty-first chapter of Proverbs and I certainly felt like I lived in the I-can’t-quite-measure-up cul-de-sac. I have come to believe with a somewhat sneaking suspicion that woman of Proverbs 31 was a combination of several mega women, a wishful hope, or a case of one woman mistakenly believing she was Wonder Woman’s clone!

Nonetheless, it is Mothers Day and in my closet and in my office are countless hand-drawn, precious cards, hand prints pressed in hardened clay and paint, little, precious hand-made gifts, pressed and dried flowers, hand-made booklets, photos, popsicle stick picture frames, and many assorted precious other keepsakes that were made by chubby little fingers belonging to mischievous little boys, now grown into handsome young men, and a little girl, now a mother herself,  who always had to do the best in all she did to make us proud. Pictures tucked neatly away in albums remind me of simpler days - toothless grins and smiles, first roller skating and ice skating parties, snowmen, cannonballs off the diving boards. . .can you see them?

Most of all in the closet of my heart are memories. . . memories that can’t be made by popsicle sticks, colorful construction paper and paste, or modeling clay figurines.  Memories of a little boy so ill that all he wanted was to lye against my breast as I prayed for God’s healing.  Memories of countless readings of The Tales of Peter Rabbit, Jemimah Puddle-Duck, Bible Stories, Dr. Seuss, and primary readers filled many evenings.  Mr. Bubble baths, shiny soft skin and the smell of three freshly bathed, slathered in Baby Magic, children is a sight and smell I know love and enjoy still in my grandchildren.  

Standing at the altar dedicating our children to the Lord, days of coaching soccer (10 years!!!) helping with homework, walking as a proud parent across a soccer and football field, taking pictures of prom princes and princesses, shuffling kids to music lessons and band camp, enduring horizontal sleet, snow, and rain huddled under sports blankets on bleacher seats are all a part of the memory bank now.  No longer are there arguments about doing homework, late curfews, cleaning rooms (except one), mowing lawns, and doing chores, or careful choice of friends. . . no rushing from a baseball game on one side of town to another little league game at Sully’s field; no more parent teacher or team conferences. . .they are all past, but they are not all forgotten.  The thrill of your son pitching a no-hitter or sailing a baseball over the fence for a homerun; the cheering, whooping and foot-stomping as your soccer player scores a goal or stops the other team from scoring – those cannot be replaced nor can time erase them.  A tear that creeps into the corner of your eye as two of the graduates sing “The Prayer” – remembering what it was like to once stand in their shoes – remembering, too, that once it has past, this fleeting moment of childhood, of adolescence, is now history.  Life, as we knew it, will not be the same.  Now there are prayers of a different sort, cries to God for wise, smart, and Godly choices to be made, commitments to Christ to be kept. . .

These are my memories.  Memories that I hold in the secret chambers of my heart, that no matter what I may “say” or how I may react – the memories are there.  The Tales of Peter Rabbit remain on my bookshelves to be shared with grandchildren.  The sports blankets and soccer chairs are hung in the garage. . .it will be awhile before the games begin again!  Children’s trophies, ribbons, and keepsakes are packed neatly in the storage area of the basement.  Two of my adult children are now married and my daughter has presented us with two beautiful granddaughters. 

So, it’s Mothers Day. . .and I couldn’t celebrate it without my children.  My own and my husband’s moms and grandmas have long since journeyed home to be with Jesus.  I have taken “Mom’s place” now and I am grateful for that title.  To be an educator, a master teacher, with several degrees means nothing compared to the degree of motherhood – I am Mom.  I am somebody to someone.  I love deeply and I’m loved in return.  Happy Mother’s Day!!! 

My best Mother’s Day Gift ever is: “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.” III John 4

–RLS  

She's a Real Character!

As a little girl, and quite honestly, even as an adult, I have often been referred to as a character. Aunts and Uncles would say to my Mom, “She’s quite a character, isn’t she?”  And, teachers at conferences would say, “Your daughter is quite a character at times.”  Oh, granted, I could be a stinker.  I could agitate another child to the point of tears or terrors – that included my older brother, friends, classmates, cousins, or anyone that I felt was easy prey.  I just liked to have fun.  I was often a joker, a clown of sorts – sometimes it was to hide my own inferiorities, insecurities, fears, and inadequacies.  Sometimes, however, I was just being “me”!

The dictionary defines “character” as the aggregate of features and traits that form the individual nature of some person or thing.  Further down the definition reads: “qualities of honesty, courage, or the like; integrity”.  Hmmhmm. . .I did look a lot like my father. . .so I was always told. 

Proverbs 11:6 (MSG) Good character is the best insurance. . .and Proverbs 20:3 (MSG) it’s a mark of good character to avert quarrelsome.  Some people will equate character with integrity and there are numerous scripture references to concur.

Hebrews 1:3 presents character in a way that when someone says to me today, “you’re a character!” I rather smile for the Greek word character used in this scripture is the word charaktér. The scripture represents Jesus as the “exact impression” of the nature of God.  Used here it means a stamp or impression that was used in the first century to refer to the “character” or impression made by a seal or a die-cut like an engraver would use to me the exact impression of a seal or letter.  Jesus Christ is exactly like His father and revealed the Father when He walked on this earth.  In John 14:9 we read “To see me is to see the Father.”

I’ve thought a lot about the character I’ve become. And while I know that the word “become” is a process so I am still “becoming”, but, I wonder, “do I reflect the “exact impression” of the One who was willing to give His all, to willingly sacrifice and lay down His life so that I might be able to have a life? I have always looked like my earthly father.  I have his hair and his eyes and many of his features and mannerisms. When my son was a little, many would say how very much he looked like us.

As children grow, we do hope they take on our good charaktér. How much more, then, as we grow in our faith, does our Father want us to take on His charaktér?  I have the traits of my dad, his work ethic, his honesty, and sincerity, his logical abilities. . .do I have the traits like my heavenly father as well?  Do I have his features of compassion, of love, of caring. . .am I a charaktér?  An exact impression of Jesus?

In the book of Acts, we read that the word “Christian” (literally ‘little Christ’) was coined first in Antioch.  While it is true that this was a mocking term, I am certain that because the disciples had charaktér, the impression of their Father stamped indelibly in each of them.

When anyone now says, “you are a character!” I think to myself, “yes, I am a charaktér . . .I am the image of my Father – my heavenly Father and it doesn’t bother me one bit to be a character or a Christian for in so doing, I am letting the world around me know that I belong to a family – one that is out of this world!