Read all of my blogs at www.blog.amyharvison.com and be sure to subscribe to have them delivered to your inbox.

Soaring on His Pinions
Published 06/14/2008 

Several weeks ago I noticed some hawks soaring around outside my office window and I stopped working to watch them for a while.  I noticed that some small birds were up there soaring with them and that every now and then the small birds would literally dive down and bounce off of the larger hawks.  After watching for a while I realized the small birds were fledgling hawks learning to soar.  I'm not sure of the real reason why they were bouncing off the adults but I think it was probably part of their learning process.  They might do it because they are getting tired and need some lift without having to land and start over.  Or maybe it is part of how they learn to dive and grab prey and fly high without missing a beat.  It was an amazing and interesting thing to watch for sure.

The red-tailed hawks that live somewhere on this 40 story building have become regular visitors on the concrete ledges outside of the windows around my office.  I have seen them perched there preening themselves, gazing at their own reflections, in pairs, alone.  And others in my office have seen the females with their young tucked beneath their wings on the ledges in early spring and that they have watched in amazement as the young birds climbed on the female's back and dug in with their talons as she flew away carrying them through the sky much like the space shuttles are transported on the backs of large airplanes.  I would assume this is another way that she teaches them to fly and catch prey.

Now that summer is in full bloom and it is hot and sunny and the fledglings have completed their course in soaring, I suppose they have moved on to create lives for themselves, find mates, build nests, and create lesson plans for the teaching of their own fledgling flying courses next spring.  And their parents are busy hunting and building and planning for their next stage in life. 

This is much like human parents and children, isn't it?  We have our young and in their early days we shelter them in our nests and care for them and then when they are older we take them places to experience life along with us.  Like the hawks carried on their mother's back, we let our children see and feel and experience life as we see and feel and experience and it teaches them how to live, doesn't it?  And then one day they are ready to learn to live life on their own - but not quite ready to do it without supervision or a safety net.  So they cut loose in the sky and we are flying nearby so they can bounce off of us when they get tired and need lift or so they can safely practice making it on their own.  Then comes the day when they soar off into the sky without us.  I wonder if the hawks miss their little ones when they go or if they are glad to get the nest all to themselves.  I wonder if they recognize their children as adults when they return with a mate and build a nest nearby.  I wonder.

My fledglings are off soaring.  And I recognize them even though they really don't look like my little babies.  And I still offer to spread my wings and catch them when they need it.  Or to carry them if required.  Although they are really too big to be carried.  My catching and carrying these days is prayer and then just being a friend - a sounding board and not a mid-air launching pad - who listens and gives counsel when they ask (and sometimes when they don't!).  Sometimes it is to listen and cry with them in their pain and struggles.  Sometimes it is to laugh at their jokes or listen to their dreams.  Sometimes it is helping them understand things about decorating or dressing or cooking or job hunting.  Occasionally I'll share some prey with them so they won't go hungry.  Or edit their term papers at the last possible moment or provide them with traffic information and alternate routes while they are out driving around and run into a jam.  Probably like the hawks with their young who grow up and live nearby - we are contemporaries now, not parent and children too much.  Interesting. My heart still tells me I am their parent and they are my child.  But I can't make their decisions for them or live their lives or expect them to obey me any more. I'm really kind of glad about that because that's a lot of responsibility to put on an old hawk's back.  But I can stay involved, be their friend, pray for them, lend the occasional helping hand, bless them, welcome them, enjoy them, and love them.  I'm glad I'm a human parent.  Although soaring like a hawk would be a blast.

This blogthought made me wonder what the Bible had to say about hawks.  The answer is not too much.  Eagles are a more prominent bird in scripture.  I came across a passage about eagles in Deuteronomy 32 and as I read it I felt a warm rush of Father's love for me as I pondered and remembered the hawks with their fledglings. 

Deuteronomy 32:10-11 (The Message) He found him out in the wilderness, in an empty, windswept wasteland. He threw his arms around him, lavished attention on him, guarding him as the apple of his eye. He was like an eagle hovering over its nest, overshadowing its young, then spreading its wings, lifting them into the air, teaching them to fly.

Soaring on His pinions,
amy

Psalm 103:1 Praise the LORD, O my soul;
all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
2 Praise the LORD, O my soul,
and forget not all his benefits-
3 who forgives all your sins
and heals all your diseases,
4 who redeems your life from the pit
and crowns you with love and compassion,
5 who satisfies your desires with good things
so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.

Mosaic Mud Pie Warrior
Published 05/04/2008

Surrender requires humility and repentance and submission.  It is an acknowledgement of power and authority with a conscious choice to turn from one thing and submit to another.  In faith, it is choosing God and His ways over our own and the world's.  Surrender is not waving a white flag and giving up to submit to capture and torture and separation from all we love.  Instead it is looking around at the sickly, dying stuff of the flesh in the foxhole where we hide and choosing to stand strong and whole in battle next to the King of all kings who rules and reigns forever.  And it is trusting that He is loving and faithful in all His ways as we become His warrior children in the Kingdom battle.

When we surrender to live in His Spirit, He searches our hearts.  He reveals the depths of our souls.  He speaks to our minds.  He shows us the way to live.  He heals.  He restores.  He renews.  He rebuilds and refreshes and replenishes. So why do we keep running back to that stinky foxhole?  We are human and we live in flesh in the world and are not yet perfected in Christ in this body and we take our eyes off of Him.  And yet He stands there waiting for us to choose to stand strong and whole.  He doesn't hold our cowardess against us.  He keeps His gaze on us waiting for us to look to Him, seeking Him and seeing all He is and does and desires.  And the truth is that we don't even have to exert effort to crawl out of the foxhole. When we look to Him and surrender our spirit to His, He lifts us out of that hole.

Gazing on Him for me is an automatic surrender.  If my eyes are connected to His I can't help but see and feel and experience His love, fall into His arms in surrender, trust His ways are perfect, and rest in His power to overcome any and every enemy.  Each moment of surrender gives opportunity for Him to take my every fleshly bent toward the foxhole and turn it into a God glorifying kingdom impacting fruit of the Spirit and character of Christ transforming moment.  That is His plan for each of us.  He created us with the patterns and personalities and passions we possess and planned from before time how He would take those things and use them for His glory as He transforms us in the likeness of His  Son.  And knowing that truth, we can stand firm in Him instead of wallowing in the foxhole.

This morning I commented to Him that a lot of my life has been spent in broken fragments but He has been faithful to pick up the pieces and create a mosaic of love and life and beauty.  His response was "I know."  And I said "Thank You."  And He said "It was my pleasure and my plan.  A mosaic is interesting and beautiful and a much better representation of the Artist's ability than a single pane of clear glass.  Your broken fragments were for my glory."

He never moved away or turned His face from me when I was out there in the foxhole breaking the fragile things of this life like glass breaks in carelessness and defiance and despair.  He stood there waiting for me to fix my eyes on Him and surrender.  And I'm so glad because as I keep my eyes on Him I stand strong and whole at His side with His sword in my hand.  I am His warrior wearing the mosaic armor of many colors while still a child dearly loved and cherished by her King.

Recently I wrote in my journal:  "Papa - I have gotten my hands dirty like a child making mud pies out in the yard. I'd rather have chocolate on my face from licking the bowl of cake batter full of the ingredients of the character of Christ..." As I looked up at Him, the mud disappeared and He handed me a spoon.  And He called me His special Mosaic Mud Pie Warrior.  Sweet.

Luke 1:45-47 And Mary said, I'm bursting with God-news; I'm dancing the song of my Savior God. God took one good look at me, and look what happened— I'm the most fortunate woman on earth! What God has done for me will never be forgotten, the God whose very name is holy, set apart from all others. His mercy flows in wave after wave on those who are in awe before him. He bared his arm and showed his strength, scattered the bluffing braggarts. He knocked tyrants off their high horses, pulled victims out of the mud. The starving poor sat down to a banquet; the callous rich were left out in the cold. He embraced his chosen child, Israel; he remembered and piled on the mercies, piled them high. It's exactly what he promised, beginning with Abraham and right up to now. (The Message)

Psalm 40:2-3 He lifted me out of the ditch, pulled me from deep mud. He stood me up on a solid rock to make sure I wouldn't slip. He taught me how to sing the latest God-song, a praise-song to our God. More and more people are seeing this: they enter the mystery, abandoning themselves to God. (The Message)

Grasping the spoon,
amy

The Birds
Published 04/08/2008

My grandmother gave me a pet parakeet when I was young.  He was very pretty and lived in a great cage with all the amenities a pet parakeet might need - food, water, a perch, something to peck on, and cover for sleeping.   He was domesticated but he still had wings to fly and knew he was a bird and that birds were made to fly.  Whenever his cage door was opened there was a chance he would try to get out.  Sometimes he escaped and mayhem broke loose!  He would fly into walls and get tangled in curtains and we would run around trying to catch him and get him back to his cage where he would be safe.  He was a captive wanting only to be free to do what he was made to do even if he didn't really know much about flying.  He didn't understand that his cage provided safety and comfort and he didn't care that I loved him and provided for his every need.  His moments of sudden freedom mixed with his lack of knowledge about flying and inability to navigate inside a house put him in extreme danger.  I can't even let myself think of the mess he would have been in had he managed to escape the house.

One time my brother and I gave my mother a canary.  He was such a sweet little yellow song bird.  But he had to be taught to sing.  Being a domesticated canary who lived his life in a cage and apart from other songbirds he probably didn't even know what singing was supposed to sound like.  So we bought him a record that had music with a choir of canaries singing along.  After just a few minutes of listening and hearing the other birds he found his own voice.  He was still alone in his cage but he sang from the heart in union with the others he could hear but not see.  Each time we played the record he would sing like that.  Otherwise he was quiet - except when the telephone rang - how could I forget that!  The telephone was in the kitchen where we kept his cage and when it rang it woke up the songbird.  He wouldn't stop singing until the call ended, almost as if he thought he was singing along with the people having the conversation.

Both of these birds were loved and blessed in their places of captivity.  Both were protected from the dangers of going from domestication to the wild without adequate training or experience.  Both had everything they needed but neither was complete in their life's full intention - the parakeet who wanted to fly and the canary who wanted to sing along with others.  Neither of them really understood what life was like outside the cage but both knew there was more.  And neither was satisfied with captivity.

Recently I was meditating on Psalm 31 and a light went off in regard to my own feeings about captivity as I read these verses:    Psalm 31:19-24 How great is Your goodness,   which You have stored up for those who fear You, which You have wrought for those who take refuge in You, before the sons of men! You hide them in the secret place of Your presence from the conspiracies of man;  You keep them secretly in a shelter from the strife of tongues. Blessed be the LORD,  for He has made marvelous His lovingkindness to me in a besieged city. As for me, I said in my alarm,  "I am cut off from before Your eyes";  Nevertheless You heard the voice of my supplications  when I cried to You. O love the LORD, all you His godly ones!  The LORD preserves the faithful  and fully recompenses the proud doer. Be strong and let your heart take courage, all you who hope in the LORD. 

It dawned on me that I sometimes seek refuge in God - and cry out for Him to hide me in His secret place and shelter me from the storms of life but when I get to this place, I suddenly feel like I am captive - like the psalmist in a beseiged city!  I am safe behind the wall where I have been taken in response to my cries to be hidden and sheltered - but I am also trapped behind the wall!  And, like the psalmist I am alarmed and feel cut off and forgotten.  And just as He always does, Father  God revealed this warped thinking to me by pointing it out with this psalm and reminding me of the parakeet and the canary.  Though in a beseiged city - a cage - we are all hidden, sheltered, and blessed with His marvelous lovingkindness.  And we can trust that He will preserve us.  We can be strong and take courage and know that when the time is right we will be set free to fly or to sing or to be king.  All we need to do is place our hope in Him and rest in the cage of His perfect presence - because in His presence is where we really want to be, isn't it?

Along with birds, our family also had dogs and cats.  Both the parakeet and the canary knew we had a cat because the cat made his presence known to them.  The birds were safe in their cages even when the cat would sit with its face pressed against the wire of the cage staring and growling.  The birds were safe even when the cat would lay next to the cage with its body wrapped around the perimeter for hours hoping the bird would somehow venture outside the cage.  But did the birds feel secure and safe and sheltered?  They didn't.  They would sit still hoping the cat wouldn't see them.  Or they would jump all around and squawk out fearful bird sounds until someone would notice and shoo the cat away.  And sadly, one of them was so afraid one night when the cat wrapped his body around the cage that it died of fright - simply died and fell from its perch to the floor of the cage while the cat watched.  Remembering this and still thinking of Psalm 31 leads me to Psalm 131. 

Psalm 131:1-3 God, I'm not trying to rule the roost, I don't want to be king of the mountain. I haven't meddled where I have no business or fantasized grandiose plans.  I've kept my feet on the ground,  I've cultivated a quiet heart.  Like a baby content in its mother's arms, my soul is a baby content. Wait, Israel, for God. Wait with hope.  Hope now; hope always!

This is the picture of the captive bird - or captive me - fully hoping in God, resting in His presence, trusting His shelter, and believing in the freedom that only He will bring.  If I live like the psalmist describes in Psalm 131, even the enemy at the gate or the cat around the cage will not cause me to fear or lose hope in the One who makes me free.  Though I am beseiged I am safe and blessed in His presence!  And while I wait and hope my heart will fly around His throne and my heart will sing with choirs of angels in praise!  Who could want more?

With sparrow-like trust, 
amy

Psalm 84:1-4 How lovely is your dwelling place,  O LORD Almighty! My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the LORD;  my heart and my flesh cry out  for the living God.  Even the sparrow has found a home,  and the swallow a nest for herself,  where she may have her young— a place near your altar,  O LORD Almighty, my King and my God.  Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you.

Silent Worship
Published 03/30/2008

Psalm 65:1-8 Silence is praise to you, Zion-dwelling God, and also obedience. You hear the prayer in it all.  We all arrive at your doorstep sooner or later, loaded with guilt, our sins too much for us— but you get rid of them once and for all.  Blessed are the chosen! Blessed the guest at home in your place!  We expect our fill of good things  in your house, your heavenly manse.   All your salvation wonders are on display in your trophy room.  Earth-Tamer, Ocean-Pourer, Mountain-Maker, Hill-Dresser, Muzzler of sea storm and wave crash, of mobs in noisy riot— Far and wide they'll come to a stop, they'll stare in awe, in wonder.  Dawn and dusk take turns calling, "Come and worship." (The Message)

Not long ago I was journaling about how much I love silence.  I love the quiet morning hours before the world is awake and how the sound of the the earliest rising bird is the music that welcomes the sun.  And I love the quiet of evening when the creatures of the day are resting and the creatures of the night are still before they begin their dance in the starlight.   I love how I hear God's voice in the slience and sense His nearness as there is nothing to interfere or distract in those moments.  I realized that the silence is praise to Him, just like Psalm 65 is expressed in The Message.  The silent moments are when eveything comes to a stop, to stare in awe and wonder at Him.  The silence is calling us to come and worship the King.  Do you hear the call?

Amy

Read all the blogs at www.blog.amyharvison.com and be sure and subscribe so new ones can be delivered to your inbox.