A Fire Report

FOR FIVE DAYS NOW, the Waldo Canyon Fire has been raging in the backyard of Colorado Springs.  Official reports estimate more than 15,000 acres burned with 32,000 people evacuated and multiple structures lost.  I unofficially estimate that hundreds of thousands of prayers have been offered with pleas for protection, for the wind to cease and the rain to begin, for safe escape, for just an end to the relentless devastation.

But prayers of thanksgiving….for what exactly?  I had to think about that one myself but soon came up with plenty of reasons.  Here’s the short list:

For lives and homes spared

For the heroic sacrifices of firefighters and public safety personnel

For shelter and food provided to evacuees and their animals

For early warning systems

For responsible and responsive public officials

For unity and community

For family, friends and strangers who’ve opened their homes, hearts and pocketbooks

For disaster relief organizations and their supporters

For advanced communication technology and systems

For dedicated media broadcasting 24/7

For hazard insurance

For Herb Turney

I happened to catch Mr. Turney’s live interview this afternoon on a local television station. With amazing calm, he talked about his evacuation experience and described watching his neighborhood burn out of control. He lamented his losses which included several marine aquariums and a cherished crop of orchids.

“But that’s just stuff,” he said.  “And stuff can be replaced and things will grow again. I have my wife, my children and my grandchildren, and that’s what’s important…lives.”

Then Mr. Turney expressed his thanks to God.

“I felt His comfort all day long,” he said.

Thank you, too, Herb, for reminding us that we have a God of all comfort who is more than enough in times of trouble.

Praise be to God…Who comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.   2 Corinthians 1:3

Open your eyes and swallow

I recently puzzled over a huge blob of mud located high on the brick wall of my front porch, just underneath the overhang.  It looked as if someone had taken several handfuls of the stuff and tried to hit the same strategic spot.  Was my house under attack?  And by what?  Giant insects? Racoons? A street gang?

 “It’s a swallow’s nest…a barn swallow,” my husband informed me over the phone.  Not only did this former ranch boy know what it was, he knew the exact species of its maker.  Before hanging up, he told me to leave it alone and he’d get rid of it when he came home.

Relieved, I returned to the porch and perched myself on a metal bench about ten feet away from the nest where I could study its construction.  As I also wondered why I had ever purchased such an uncomfortable piece of furniture, a small bird suddenly swooped in and out of the covered porch.  It repeated this maneuver twice more, then finally landed on the edge of the nest, cocked its tiny head in my direction and gave me a nasty look.  It worked.  I went inside the front door and watched through the glass.

The swallow’s feathers were a deep metallic blue.  Its belly was the color of amber and its head a brighter orange.  I pulled The Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Birds off my top bookshelf and blew off the dust.  Color plate 352 for the barn swallow (Hirundo rustica) could have been a photograph of my new squatter. The habitat key gave extensive details about its voice, habitat range and nesting characteristics.  I read the last two sentences.

“ Because it nests under the eaves of cottages as well as palaces,  the Barn Swallow…is the most popular bird in Europe.  Destruction of its nest is believed to bring harm—fire, lightning, death—to the house and its inhabitants.”

Perhaps the nest wasn’t as unsightly as I had first thought.  I’m not superstitious, but then who was I to argue with a continent of people responsible for the Enlightenment?  And didn’t the Bible talk about swallows and sparrows.

Out came both my Bible and the Holman Illustrated Bible Dictionary, one of the best Christmas presents I’ve ever received…thanks again, kids!  I found the short entry for swallow.

“ Bird that migrates to Palestine from March until winter.  It made nests in the temple (Psalm 84:3) and was often seen with the common sparrow… sometimes confused with the swift.”          

You have to like a bird that’s not above flying around with the commoners.    

I turned to Psalms.

“Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young—a place near your altar, O LORD Almighty, my King and my God.”      

I concluded that King David also had contemplated a swallow’s nest beneath the cornice of the temple porch.  Could he have imagined that 3,000 years later, in a distant corner of the world, someone would read his lyrics and be inspired to tap out a blog, silly but sincere?  Most doubtful…but our God certainly knew.

My uninvited guest had become a blessing!    In my mind, what once had been an eyesore and a potential nuisance had transformed into an altarpiece, an intricate design developed by God with its exact building specifications programmed into the tiniest of His creatures.

The nest is staying.

Open my eyes so I can see what you show me of your miracle-wonders.

Psalm 119:18 The Message