I swiped this from The Bolivar Commercial - one of Cleveland, Mississippi's two newspapers. For years their editorials have always been reflective of their community, and their personal views. This one was published yesterday, March 26, 2009.
Mother Nature offers inspiration for difficult times
Thursday, Mar 26, 2009 - The Bolivar Commercial (Cleveland, MS)In these soul-trying times, we are constantly amazed at the lessons nature teaches us about faith, life in general and even patriotism.
We thought about that the other day as we walked across our backyard and were surrounded by birds welcoming the new spring day with song. Yes, we’re in the midst of a deepening recession and our country remains at war in Iraq and Afghanistan, but nobody told the birds. Gloom was not to be found in the treetops; there were only birds singing in the orchestra of spring.
It is said that “faith is the bird that feels the light and sings to greet the dawn while it is still dark.” That we could—and would—do the same.
Canada geese, which flock to the Mississippi Delta in winter, teach us several lessons about life. By flocking together and flying in a V-formation, they can travel non-stop 70 percent farther than if they were flying alone, which is a good lesson in unity. They mate for life and they fiercely project their goslings. If one gets sick or is shot, two geese break ranks and fly down with it, remaining until the goose gets better or dies.
The mockingbird sings through the night in the early spring. We wondered how many of us are able to do that in the dark times we are experiencing.
In addition, Alexander Rutledge told how a mockingbird is a lover of freedom, recounting that as a young boy he was always catching and caging wild things. He particularly loved the sound of the mockingbird, so he decided to catch one and keep it so he could hear it sing any time.
He found a young mockingbird and placed it in a cage outside his home. On the second day, he saw a mother bird fly to the cage and feed the young bird through the bars. This pleased Archibald. But then the following morning he found the little bird was dead.
Later young Arch was talking to the renowned ornithologist, Arthur Wayne, who told him, “A mother mockingbird, finding her young in a cage, will sometimes take it poisonous berries. She evidently thinks it better for one she loves to die rather than live in captivity.”
It’s an example we here in America, “the land of the free and the home of the brave,” should take to heart. Our all-volunteer military is finding it so hard to recruit new members, it is having to extend the enlistment of many of our soldiers.
And, of course, this being early spring, all kinds of wildflowers are popping up, and by the little prayer chapel, thousands of tiny flowers grow, each in the shape of the Cross of Jesus. How appropriate for this Lenten season.
But there was a difference this year. In past years, the cross-shaped flowers were always white. This year, however, the little crosses were both blue and sometimes even purple.
They reminded us of a song we heard years ago that told the story of two little boys who were decorating the Cross for an Easter parade float with flowers. When their pastor saw what they were doing, he frowned, saying something to the effect, “Oh no, flowers don’t belong on the Cross. It was a cruel instrument of death. There was nothing beautiful about it.”
To which one of the little boys replied, “But Pastor, everything Jesus touches He makes more beautiful.”
Even the thousands of pinpoints of light that fill the nighttime sky declare the glory of God as it says in the 119th Psalm. We remember one moonless night looking up at the brightly shining stars and recalling the saying “that it is only when you are surrounded by darkness can you see the stars.”
Similarly it was dark last night as a thunderstorm swept through Bolivar and Sunflower counties. At one point a bolt of lightning struck near the house, rattling the windows and frightening Calie, the calico cat, so badly that she jumped off the love seat and scampered into the bedroom and hid under the bed.
Though momentarily shaken, we continued working on the editorial, remembering that God indicated in the Book of Job that “He made a law for the rain, and a path for the thunderbolt,” and that being the case, we found ourselves hoping that path wouldn’t include our house.
It turned out the storm passed causing no harm. But it did improve our prayer life.
In so many ways I easily related to the romance of the birds in this editorial. I hope you enjoy.
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