In April of 1973 a few weeks before my graduation from the Enterprise State Junior College, I found myself at the Shocco Springs Baptist Assembly in Talledega, Alabama. I was there for orientation to be a summer missionary to Eatontown, New Jersey. The two-day conference was filled with meetings and activities. The conference was good and I was enjoying the company of other students, but I needed some solitude. I found some woods nearby and ventured out on a hike with no particular destination in mind. My hike eventually took me to a hillside that overlooked a beautiful valley. I sat down in the grass and just took in the view. One of my favorite verses in the Bible is from the Book of Johah, "And God prepared a worm." Just the thought that the God of all the universe found a use for one worm on planet earthy fills me with joy. That afternoon in Talledega, Alabama, God prepared a bird.
I saw the majestic bird of prey in the distance making lazy circles above me and was fascinated with its ease of flight. Never once needing to flap its wings, it soared on the thermals, and ascended and descended at will. I assumed that it was a hawk since they were plentiful in Alabama. To my utter delight as its circles brought it closer and closer, I realized that the bird was much too big to be a hawk, it was a golden eagle. It was the first time that I had ever seen an eagle in the wild.
As I continued to observe the eagle's flight and to think about what she was observing below her, I started thinking about what it might be like to be her instead of me. I thought, "All she has to do is eat, sleep, mate, build nests, feed her young, call, And fly. That's it." And I thought, "In a way, she has a better life than I do."
If I was not enjoying the experience enough already, the eagle settled in her nest just a few feet from where I sat. She just sat there with her back to me turning her head back and forth, with her feathers brushing her back. And I just watched until I felt that it was time for me to get back to the retreat center. When I got back a well-meaning participant, my roommate for the conference, said, "David, I don't know where you were, but you missed an important meeting about the summer." I just said, "Thanks, I had somewhere else I had to be."
That evening during a worship time in the chapel, I was looking out the window at the big oak trees. I was thinking about the eagle and I was thinking about me. As I considered those trees, I thought, "David, those trees have been there every time you've been here since you were a kid and you've never noticed them. Look how strong and permanent they are. They've been watching you all this time.." When I turned my attention back to the speaker he began saying, "Look out the window at these mighty oak trees. They've been here for a very long time. Let them serve as a reminder to you of God's presence here and of your security in him as you go back to school to finish your semester"
All of a sudden I didn't want to be an eagle, I wanted to be me. I was glad for the memories of being at Shocco Springs as a Royal 'Ambassador as a boy. I was glad that I could remember being there as a teenager with my youth group from my church. I might not could fly, but I could remember. I might not have a nest, but I have a home--a father, a mother, a brother, a sister. And a dog. I have a dog. And I was happy that I was going to be a summer missionary and then a student at Samford University. I can see a future ahead of me and I like what I see.
Jesus said, "Look at the birds of the air." And maybe like I did that afternoon in Talledega, Alabama He wanted us to be taken by their beauty and experience a tinge of envy. But then he asked us, "Are you not worth more than they?" And the obvious answer seems to be, "Yes, yes we are worth more than they." When God was looking down on that eagle that afternoon, just below His beautiful bird, He saw a young man sitting on a hillside, another of His creations. And God thought, "He can't fly, but he can walk, He can't spread his feathers and catch the wind, but he can sing. And his singing will take him places that eagle will never see. I'll see to that."
I don't sing much anymore, but I can remember where that singing took me. One place it took me was sitting with a group of college friends in June of 1975 on a hillside near Stockholm, Sweden looking at distant mountains over a meadow and a valley below us. And on that hillside I was remembering a hillside in Alabama. And I was remembering an eagle. I was thinking, "The eagle's still flying and those mighty oaks still abide, but you are worth more than they." And I smiled.
No comments:
Post a Comment