Quail

There’s a cute little variety of Quail here in Idaho.  Cute, but absurd.  Allow me to elaborate…

The variety that lives here has a little topknot that dangles overhead. They’re fairly unremarkable except for one distinct trait: they don’t fly.  They’re capable, they just prefer not to fly. Though I’m certain they actually traffic in many other places, I most frequently encounter them in the road.   As I approach in the car, the birds are ambling across the street.  The closer I get, they shift into walking overdrive: leaning forward, jutting their little chins out, and scurrying as fast as their little feet can take them.  The urgency of their crossing is palpable; cardiac arrest seems imminent.   Instead of moved to compassion, I find myself mocking these avian sprinters: “You can fly, you ridiculous bird! You don’t need to run, you can fly!”

My husband theorizes the topknot keeps their eyes crossed and distracts them from all that’s going on around them.   As is turns out, they’re pretty fast runners at a neat clip of 12 miles per hour.

After a recent near-squashing rant, I was rendered quiet by the similarities between me and these silly birds.

I’m just like a California Quail. They’re a ground-dwelling bird, and I’m a ground-dwelling human, until God takes me heavenward.  I’m so focused on, and distracted by, the cares of my own life dangling overhead that I’m oblivious to the other beautiful gifts God is giving me and, worse, the needs of those around me.  When I sense danger approaching, I, too, lean forward and simply try to run faster and harder.

A whisper in my heart:  “Kirsten, you can fly. You don’t need to run; you can fly.”

“Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”  –Isaiah 40:30-31 NIV

God has made me capable of flight, on wings like eagles. Yet I choose not to.

So, my little neighbors will no longer be subject to my mockery, but rather a lovely reminder of this truth: I must put my hope in the Lord.

And then, I will soar.