Reflection: Under his wings

When I found out, almost 30 years ago, that my mom was dying, the image that came to me and shaped the card I made for her was that of overlapping wings. The card was only small…but the concept is colossal and deeply, eternally comforting. I poured few words into that card, but a lot of emotion. I pretty-well water-coloured the card with my tears.

Before I got a chance to send it though, my little nephew got a hold of it and blithely scribbled all over it. Ironically (and somewhat amusing only on reflection), is that colourful scribble is a hint of how, when we find our shelter in the right place/person, there’s a gut-level expanse of joy to be had. Bitter sweetness. Sweet sorrow.

On the stage of life, picture the high-almighty God with his countless angels; picture his arch-enemy and a myriad lackeys; picture generations of this broken-world-being-made-new. And then there are you…and I…and my mom. The psalmist distils that epic scenario…to a single, parent bird with a clutch of nestled chicks. Outside the terrors are all too real, but this parent is a self-sacrificing intermediary—ever-present and instinctively trustworthy. We are sheltered. Out of love and trust in God, you and I, like my mom, are eternally safe.

Prayer:

Find, eternally rescue, and renew your people from this world’s windswept wastelands, Father God. Lavish them with your love and cherish them as the apple of your eye. Brood over and protect them as they mature. Teach them to fly—lift, catch, and hover over them. (See Deuteronomy 32:10-11, in the Message paraphrase).

(Pray this again substituting your name/yourself as the object of love. Do the same for another cherished someone you know.)