Change, God and Mama Dove

As I walked out of the house this morning, coffee and laptop in hand, the warm humid air hit my face, revealing that another South Texas Summer is quickly setting in.  As I wiped the almost instantaneous sweat from my brow, I glanced up at the large palm tree to the left.  As has become the routine lately, I anticipated my eyes meeting those of my new friend; "Mama Dove", as we've affectionately called her.  About two feet above eye level, resting in the nook of a couple of dead branches, are usually the small dark black eyes that cautiously watch my movements as I pass by.  There was more nervousness in her glances when we first discovered her, but as the days passed by, she soon relaxed, realizing that neither me nor my family were much of a threat.  There seemed to be a silent trust that had developed.  She seemed to know that we all knew what she was up to and appeared to be comfortable in her new temporary home.  I began to enjoy greeting her as I came and went.  "Hey, Mama Dove!  How are those babies doing?  When's the big day?"  Over the last couple of days, by her relaxed glances, it was almost as if she was sharing her experience with me.  I enjoyed having her around. 

But this morning, instead of seeing her welcoming face or tale feathers, depending on her position of choice, I saw only an empty nest.  I would have assumed that she was simply making a food run, but apparently nesting doves have a very specific routine, and those don't take place until evening, as the sun begins to set.  After setting down my coffee and backpack, I walked outside and into the garage to get my ladder, still expecting her to swoop down any second and assume her maternal post.  But as I set the ladder near the tree and made my way up toward the nest, I quickly realized that it was empty and the realization of what was going on set in.  She was gone and the eggs had hatched.  Nature had upheld it's end of the bargain and the anticipation of life finally came to fruition.  The wheels on the bus go round and round.  

There are literally thousands of birds born each and every day.  There should be no reason that I lament the absence of Mama Dove and the two eggs that she patiently and dutifully watched over for so long.  But as I picked up one of the shells that I found on the ground cover below, I felt a little sadness at the change that just occurred.  Something that I had come to depend on, look forward to and even enjoy, was removed from my life and I felt the subtle sting of "change".  And change can suck sometimes.  None of us really like it, but it happens none the less.  And this little window into nature revealed that change occurs in all aspects of life; even those that seem to have nothing to do with us.

Mama Dove's big change had become a small change for me.  The system of God's creation transpired in this little birds life and by chance, and blessing, I was able to be a part of it.  Nature has no time tables.  Nature has no schedules.  Nature has no dependence on anything other than itself and it's self-reliance, and this got me thinking about a much bigger picture.  These small pictures of nature, God's sovereign creation, reveal to us just how little control we have to what happens to us.  Mama Dove's eggs would hatch, whether she wanted them to or not.  And as long as she did the job that God created her to do, everything would go as planned.  Why is that simple concept so difficult for human beings to grasp?

All of nature, besides man, seems to have a trusting grasp on the perfect flow of nature and the creation that surrounds them.  Just because we might have superior intellects, does that give us the privilege of worry and the authority of control?  Just because the mind delves into reason, does that allow us to usurp what God has already perfectly set in motion, without flaw or glitch?  Or could it be that we are the flaws and glitches to the process?

I wonder is God has been revealing Scripture to me, just outside my front door.  Has He been whispering to me through Mama Dove, " Jake, I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; what you will write today or who you will minister to; or about your body, what you will wear; or about your hair and how it's falling out.  Is not life more than food, books, hair and the body more than clothes?  Look at the birds of the air; look at Mama Dove; she doesn't sow or reap or store away in barns, in fact, she just sits there all day long, 24/7, and yet I feed her.  Are you not much more valuable than her?  Is not your family?  Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?" - Matthew 6:25-27 (Paraphrase mine)                               

Paradox

It would be good for us to rest in the uncertainty of the supernatural; a realm that is beyond our comprehension at times, but strangely rises in us as welcoming and constant, and all the while, resting in the resounding truth that our God is a God of order, not disorder. A God of certainty, not confusion. (1 Corinthians 14:33)

It is true that we cannot see God, hold Him, touch Him, verbally dialogue with Him, or smell His sweet aroma. But in a divine paradox, He is the most tangible thing that our human souls can witness in this journey of life. Beyond time and space, God moves in a reality that almost seems to be non-existent, yet exists more clearly than ourselves. Closer than the air we breathe, He is within us, enveloping us and transcending us.

But in a feeble attempt, our natural tendency seems to want to put God into a box, that neatly fits into our realm of comprehension. Attempting to do this is like trying to capture the entire ocean in a cup, or counting every last grain of sand on the earth. To do so would be impossible, and yet we continue to live under the false impression that we can completely comprehend that which almost seems to have no comprehension.

To say all this is to also agree that despite the far reaching arms of the supernatural, we also have a very tangible hold on God's existence. As nature revolves around us and we witness the incredible beauty and miracles of creation, it cries out to us that God exists in a very real way. (Romans 1:20) The universe cries out to us, "Hear this! In the same manner that you cannot comprehend me, you cannot comprehend that which made me! But His existence is all the more real because you behold my existence!" (Psalm 19:1)

So I rest in the fact that although I cannot always comprehend God and how He works in this world or in my life, I am sure of His existence because the supernatural breaks through the realms of the natural, screams to me, grabs hold of me and pulls me under until I am drowning in truth. A paradox, yes; but still with no contradiction or defiance to intuition.