Springtime Listening

“Look at the birds … Consider the lilies of the field…” Matthew 6:26 &28They were strutting their stuff; seriously, all seven of them, decked out to the nines, whooping and hollering at anything that remotely resembled a female. When the sunlight hit them just right they lit up in an explosion of iridescent colors, yet they were oblivious to just how spectacular they looked. Their tiny brains cooked on an overdose of springtime testosterone these seven boys put on the full show to garner an invite from our lone goose and three old chickens, which were glad for the fence separating them from this gang of juvenile toms. They strutted, they gobbled, they inflated their flaming red necks, they fanned out their magnificent tail feathers like big bouquets, they dropped their wings to the ground and danced in circles and figure eights trying to outdo their buddy next to him. It was quite the show, but it obviously did not impress the hens and goose, which only aided their efforts until in utter consternation and frustration over how anyone could resist such an exquisite display of masculinity and wooing, and so they decided to pack it in and move on. That’s when we saw her emerging from behind the woodpile, one solitary, plain clothed, smallish, wild turkey hen. I am not sure if she looked scared or if she was smiling over the fact that these boys were like putty in her hands, that she had the power to keep them dancing for the rest of spring. I do know that wherever she went they followed, trying to impress that girl, to make her chose just him. Susie and I were quite entertained by this impromptu morning turkey ruckus.Of course, I could also tell you about the stellar jay and its hidden shades of blue covering its back, which only become visible when the light hits just right. Or I could tell you about our walk at Salt Point and its sandstone scar that has been the battlefield between the ocean and the continent for eons and in all of its rawness holds fascinating beauty. We could go out after church this weekend and try to discover as many different flowers dressed in timeless high-end fashion, I am sure it would take us more than the afternoon.I understand why some say they don’t need church to be close to God, God does tell about himself through his creation, and he speaks and teaches us through it as well. He also speaks through his church in ways that nature can’t, it is not one or the other, but we are poorer if don’t pay attention to both. But that’s not my point for this pastor’s note. I wanted to remind you that God speaks to us, teaches us, and reminds us of important things (and often in connection with praying and reading Scripture, the Bible). Springtime seems to just want to grab our hands and pull us outside to look, to listen, to be captivated, to have the sunlight hit just right to reveal flashes of God that leave us breathless and in awe.I remember sitting out on the tiny balcony of my brother’s apartment in the middle of Stuttgart. Like a good Swabian he and his wife had things growing on the balcony, but looking up swallows were giving an awesome areal show. For us living in Don Pedro, that seems rather ordinary, but God can speak through those swallows, a lizard on a rock, a gourd in the desert, a sparrow in the street, an eagle in the sky, a lily by the roadside, and turkeys at breakfast.And what about those turkeys? They made me think about what a turkey I can be, that my base instincts are corrupted by sin and can have me act like a fool or hurtful and then excuse it a normal. I thought about #Me Too looking at that little hen who was being pestered and pressured by those seven males and that surely we can do better. I thought about how much thought God put into the plumage of a turkey, they really are a sight in full regalia. I was reminded that God wants me to dress in Christlikeness, reflect the beauty of Christ, from early morning till night, and for this entire season we call life.To God be all glory. Love you, Pastor Hans