Shortly after moving into our current home five years ago, I began to recognize certain critters that would frequent our address. Of these creatures, my favorite was Mordecai.
Mordecai is a dove.
Mordecai had hard working parents that tried to provide for him a suitable life. They left several summers ago and left him to fend for himself. He struggled for a while, but presumably urged by the pangs of spring hunger, he finally flew the nest. I saw a few of his early attempts and they were not the icon of grace and triumph one would hope for.
These days, Mordecai has grown up a bit. He’s seen stuff. He’s learned things an upstanding dove needs to know in order to survive in the 89503.
Last year he found a mate and they built a nest in the exact same location as his parents did in years previously, my ornamental cherry tree. That seemed to work well for them. Sturdy branches. Protected from predators.
This year however, was different. Despite the experience of last year they landed on a new location, the young pine tree in my lawn.
I took the picture above 2 days ago. 2 snowy eggs lay nestled along side each other.
Then this one below was taken yesterday after the typical gale-force wind gusts that frequent Reno in the spring:
I remember when I was a new Christian someone was speaking on why we aren’t taken up to Heaven the moment we trust Jesus. The speaker phrased it as if this was a question that had plagued everyone, burning us alive, robbing us of peace, and wreaking havoc on our faith. He was going to solve the mystery so we could all sleep better.
The question had never crossed my mind.
What had crossed my mind, was that even though you trust Jesus once and that salvation has a starting point, learning to trust everyday was for more difficult; making tiny decisions that reflect that trust a much taller task. In fact, I saw in my friends and in my own heart the ability to completely forget what I had learned yesterday and choose self, choose me, choose sin.
Even though God had shown me the futility of my own plans, and the cracks in my own foundation, I was quick to return to those old tattered construction plans. I was and still am very capable and even willing at times to build my life on things that will not last. Some of those things are revealed by the slightest breeze, and others require a potent storm to be pried out of my heart. Sometimes things have to come crashing down for us to even realize what we are doing. It’s in these moments of clarity that we can make incredible headway in our relationship with Jesus.
Learning what a firm foundation is can not alone save you from the storm. You actually have to build your life on it. Brick by brick, choice by choice, moment by moment. The good news is that Christ gives himself as strength and power to do just that.
I hope Mordecai comes back. I think he could make another run at life here and make it.