flying lessons

While walking in the woods at our neighborhood dog park I noticed that the birds were chirping particularly loud that day. Actually it was more like a frantic cry and I commented on the fact to my Australian Shepherd. He ignored my observation and ran ahead into the trees where I lost sight of him. I soon learned his location when he began barking deeply and urgently which is rare for him. I found him, nose to the ground, his barking increasing in urgency and his eyes darting, looking to see if I was joining him. There just out of reach of his clumsy paws was a baby bird, uninjured, attempting to fly. It got as high as my dog's head and then flittered back down. At this point the birds in the trees were no longer satisfied with making a racket and had begun dive bombing my pet who I convinced to leave the scene.

We had interrupted a flying lesson. The thought occurs to me that we are often like that little bird doing a great job in our life flying lessons with God as our teacher. But then there are interruptions. Some interruptions are as innocent as my puppy, others are more threatening, and all the while God, like that family of birds, is there calling to us, encouraging us and warding away evil until we are ready to rejoin him.