Dominic's Domain

Greetings family and friends,

     Island time is known for its turtle pace and carefree gait, but regardless of this my time on Helene has flown by.  It is hard to believe that six months have passed since I was in Atlanta visiting my sister and her family prior to boarding a jet to Honduras.  Since returning to the Bay Islands my experiences have been deeply profound and at times seemingly inexpressible.  They have also been full of challenges– physical, emotional, and spiritual.  Born in these challenges have been distress and struggles.  But praise God!  For we “also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope” (Romans 5:3-4).  I have experienced many instances of our Father’s loving discipline and in this I am only encouraged because “the Lord disciplines those he loves” (Hebrews 12:6) and while “No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful.  Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it” (Hebrews 12:11).

     At times it has seemed as though we were living on the brink of a world disaster hat-trick.  The magnitude 7.3 earthquake that rocked our world in May…a debilitating outbreak of swine flu in July…and a political coup d’état and subsequent civil unrest leaves me searching the horizons for the hurricane that’s sure to make landfall before the season’s end.  If not that, then perhaps frogs or flaming hail!  Whatever befalls us next, it seems that God is drawing attention to this little-known third-world country!

     Nonetheless, here I am and praise God, I feel as safe, or safer than I ever have in my life!  It’s an awesome thing to be called to join God in His work and to know that you are where you are because He made it so!  As most of you know, my role (after first being a missionary) is serving as a 5^th and 6^th grade teacher.  God has done some wondrous things with school this year, beginning with the formation of an islander school board.  The teachers have likewise taken an impressive step forward toward greater workplace independence.  As for me, what started out as a class of sixteen, through constant stretching and molding (of God’s hands upon me) has whittled my (His) class down to eight.  Throughout this difficult process God has been teaching me far more than I can reveal in words, as this teaching has come in revelation.  God wants all of me, and wants Christ to live in and through me and me in Him.  The Blood of Christ has washed me clean of all of my sins; past, present, and future.  Christ’s work upon the Cross has dealt with the fallen me; the son of Adam, the old me.  The Cross which bore Him also bore me, and now each day I now bear the cross as I submit my will to His and call upon Him to be my all-in-all.  Simply said, the Blood dealt with the sin, the Cross the sinner, and now daily I pick up my cross in constant remembrance to lose myself so that He might live through me!  It is such an awesome and precious fact, that “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.  The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me” (Galatians 2:20).

     God’s word shines truth into the world.  In addition to my Bible, I have really enjoyed reading some books over the past few months.  I am not embarrassed to admit that one such book was William Young’s The Shack.  Conversely, I must admit that I am a little embarrassed that I also enjoyed The Screwtape Letters by CS Lewis (if you haven’t read it, only after reading it might you understand my position).  Also by Lewis, I benefitted from Mere Christianity, but perhaps began to push my limited intellect when I inched across the finish line of The Problem of Pain and am now most definitely stuck in idle (on page thirty-six) of Miracles.  His mind, given me in doses, makes me dizzy.  As a team we completed the Bible study Experiencing God by Henry and Richard Blackaby, which was excellent.   Right now I am in the final pages of The Normal Christian Life by Watchman Nee and I highly recommend this to all believers.  Wow.

     Now, please know that me sharing my recent reads is not meant to draw comments such as, “Check out the big brains on Dominic!” but rather, that God has revealed my inflated sense of self and knowledge, and that my brain was (and still is) quite honestly filled with a heap of utter uselessness and He aims to conduct needed spring cleaning.  Out with the old, and in with the new.

     Speaking of new-s…As of November, Alternative Missions will be officially handing over the reins of the Helene mission site to a new private non-profit mission organization (see attachments).  Mission Encounters International (MEI) will be directed by Larry Benson (our site director here on Helene).  It’s an exciting time to be part of the planning for this new organization as we collectively seek to join God in the work He is doing around us.  During mid-September our team spent ten days down-island in intense prayer, planning, and teaming sessions as we sought out God’s plan for MEI and the people of Helene.  I am humbled to be invited into God’s kingdom work.

     With that said, I do not know if I will be returning to Helene next year.  Honestly, I have not thought that far ahead!  I will begin to pray through this to seek God’s will in the coming weeks and months.  Recently I read about George Muller who was a minister in England during the nineteenth century.  Muller detailed steps he took for seeking a heart relationship with God and learning to discern His voice.  Interestingly, the first step he took was to in the beginning get his heart into a state that it had no will of its own.  This is where I too hope to begin, since once I submit my will and emotions to be removed of the process, finding the knowledge of His will should be more readily revealed.  We all know what happens when we are driving down the interstate at night with the interior cabin lights on…we lose our vision for the road.  I seek to turn off my inside lights so that I might see His way more clearly.

     If it’s in God’s will, I'll be returning to Wisconsin on October 31^st.  Very shortly thereafter, and again if it’s in God’s will, I will be joining my parents and various relatives from my father’s family on a trip to the Philippines for two weeks.  I am again humbled and deeply thankful to God for providing the opportunity and means for this to happen for me and my parents.  What a blessing it will be to share this experience with my mom and dad.

     I thank God for each of you, as your prayers of support, your words of encouragement, and your financial gifts have been a true blessing from our Father.  Do not hesitate to forward this message on to anyone who you think might be called to further support God’s work on Helene.  Please continue to pray for me, my fellow missionaries, my students, the people of Helene, and the nation of Honduras.  I feel that God has drawn a line to and across this little, poor Central American country.  What that means I do not know, but keep the Honduran people in your prayers.  Please pray too for my family, especially my parents as we prepare for our trip to the Philippines.  “And you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8).   

     The days ahead call for boldness.  The days ahead call for believers to truly believe what they have heard, stand upon it with the confidence that comes from Christ, and to proclaim it to the glory of His name. “For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline” (2 Timothy 1:7).  May God bless you and keep you well in His hands.

In His Grace,

Dominic C. Alvarez

Family and Origins

I was the sixth child of a family of seven and an only son.  My parents named me Dominic, after no one and for no apparent reason.  I was born and raised in a little community in south-central Wisconsin and my dad was a well-known high school biology teacher who taught multiple generations of students.  Thus my birth was probably significant news after so many girls had arrived before me.  In the 1970’s and in the eyes of the prevalent Irish-German town folk I’m sure the Alvarez clan resembled some weird interracial Hispanic Brady Bunch.  It’s funny how I never thought of myself as Hispanic until many years later when I was thrown into the company of men of many creeds and colors who together became soldiers. 

Ethnically, I consider myself a mutt (as many Americans should), since I carry the heritage banners of a Spanish-Philippine, Norwegian, Englishman, Irishman, and German.  This is an unlikely assortment of groups to be wrapped up in one man and I believe it has resulted in one of God’s stranger and at times more dysfunctional creations!  I was blessed by being raised by two loving parents who instilled strong values of respect and appreciation.  As Catholics, we attended church weekly where I spent most of my pew time day-dreaming about girls and worldly adventures.  I never knew God, let alone that He loved me and was deeply invested in me and an intimate relationship with Him.  Jesus Christ was a crucifix; a wooden sculpture of a man in a contorted expression of agony on some weird, eerily-suspended cross. 

Spiritual Awakening

Something happened the year I was to be confirmed and it had very little to do with my church. First of all, understand that the Catholic Church to me was largely just an exercise in religious traditions.  This is not to say that I did not meet men and women of strong Christian faith in the Catholic Church, but it is to say that it is not until now (or more recently) that I realized the quality of their fabric and trueness.  However, in my then (and still) crude understanding of Catholic traditions I would sum in this: Genuflect upon arrival…say this…say that…bow your heads…shake some hands, line-up for a weird wafer, exit building...amen.  Any message that was given was blurred over or all-together erased by my careful mental reckoning of which girls were where while simultaneously deliberating the velocities required to zip-line from the various columns holding up the cathedral ceiling.  Alas, I was lost.

I was about fifteen when a family vacation to Myrtle Beach meant I wouldn't be able to participate in the upcoming confirmation field trip.  Instead I attended an alternative event called TEC (Teens Encountering Christ).  During that event, it was the first time I looked at the cross in a different light.  In retrospect, I think it was the first time I saw the cross without Christ upon it.  It was the first time I saw the True Jesus Christ and it was the first time I wept in church for reasons other than reprimand or death of a loved one.  I experienced something that my traditional Catholic upbringing did not help me explain.  Was I saved?  Honestly...I don't know.  Moreover, the next eighteen years of my life certainly wouldn’t seem to lend to that assertion.  Perhaps, more than anything it might have paved the way to later understanding that I did need saving.

Faces of the Enemy

Ironically I began some heavy and frequent binge drinking at about age fifteen.  I'd quit for sport seasons or would get caught and would stop for a while, but an evident family history coupled with a young start had me treading down a dangerous path.

Three days after high school I left for the Army where I served three years as an Airborne Infantryman in the 82nd Airborne Division.  Drinking was a way of life there, especially since I was part of the All American Division (AA for short– also known as the most-fit group of Alcoholics Anonymous on the planet).  I was well on my way…or as was the paratrooper’s tenet, “All the way!”

After the Army I served in the National Guard for four years while attending school at the University of Wisconsin-Madison.  It's a party school and I excelled (at the partying).  During my military and college years I began having vivid dreams in which I would seemingly be awake and in bed and I would get into intense physical wrestling matches with something that I can only describe as a wraith-like demon.  It was a shadowy, yet humanoid-like thing that was both form and formless and had incredible strength.  The hideous sound of labored breath sounded as if its mouthful of wicked teeth and too much saliva were impeding each breath.  It would launch upon and suppress and crush me in an attempt to steal the breath from my lungs.  As soon as I resisted– by mustering all my strength to throw it off, it would leap back onto me, pressing me down once again.  The only way I could end these nightmare bouts was to call upon the name of Jesus Christ.

I wasn't going to church at this time, save for when I visited my parents.  After college I moved to Arkansas where I worked for a private non-profit field science education organization.  I became a staunch evolutionist who worked with some brilliant scientists and educators– many of whom were atheists and/or had resigned to the shadows of worldly intellect.  My drinking increased and my nightmares continued.

After five years in Arkansas I hit what seemed like rock bottom.  Funny how it seems “the bottom” just gets deeper each time you tussle with it.  On the heels of brokenness and in the pits of drinking-too-much I wrote a suicide letter and set out into the Arkansas hills on a cold and icy January night. 

By the grace of God that night didn’t find my end.  During the subsequent ‘sabbatical’ from work I visited Ridgway, Colorado to visit my sister and her family.  While at her church I felt a barely familiar feeling and wept uncontrollably.  The same words kept coming to my mind as tears streamed down my face that Sunday:

"Remember the gift I've given you...this gift."

I wish I could say that I quit drinking that day.  My drinking became even more cyclic with periods in which I’d abstain from drinking altogether followed by a spectrum of increasing drinking until I'd correct myself and thus start the cycle anew.  Finally, after much encouragement from my sister and her husband, I moved to Ridgway.  I began going to church weekly and participating in Bible studies.  I began thirsting for God's word.  One night I awoke in bed, sitting upright in my sister’s guest room with my arms and hands reaching out in front of me towards the wall and a blinding and blazing cross.  Was it a dream?  Does it matter?  Despite these things going on in my life, my dangerous drinking cycles persisted.

A couple years passed until I had a couple close calls while drinking and driving.  On the Friday before Thanksgiving, after a heavy night of drinking I passed out at the wheel and slammed head-on into an embankment and totaled my car.  Fortunately, no one else was hurt and I walked away from the incident with minor injuries.  To this day the only physical scar remaining from that accident is a left thumb that doesn't bend quite right.

The next morning I was still in a lot of pain. During a state of fear and panic the previous night, I'd managed to cover up the evidence of my crash...save for the totaled vehicle parked in front of my rental studio and a horribly discolored and swollen thumb.  My brother-in-law came over (I had told him what had happened).  I was so ashamed of what I'd done...what I'd become.  I cried as an emotional levy somewhere between spirit, soul, and body gave way.  He shared the following verse with me and encouraged me to read it every day:

“Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.”

Colossians 3:12-14

Born Again

It’s been nearly four years and I haven't had a drop of alcohol since, nor have I had the wrestling-the-wraith dreams.  Were those simply dreams?  Does too much alcohol plus increasing dehydration equal demonic dreams?  Maybe they were just hallucinations? (These dreams always took place in the room where I was sleeping).  Perhaps these dreams were just an over-active imagination? (Something I’ve been indicted for in the past!)  Whatever you may think of these experiences, know that I believe that I was in a very real struggle with a demon of addiction.  When I finally began living for Christ this demon’s power over me was defeated.

Soldier of Christ

Since being in Honduras as a missionary I have experienced things that most "Christians" would dismiss or simply be baffled by.  I have seen a whirling mass of flies in the shape of a body try to attack me (or was it just the side-effects of chloroquine!).  I have been helped by an invisible hand out of bed so that I could kneel beside it and pray.  While back in the states I was struggling with the decision of whether I should return to Honduras.  During the emotional climax of this conflict and while in tears and praying, my cell phone rang with a call from a woman in Switzerland who I've never met before in my life and she said, "I know we've never met before, but for some reason God wants me to pray with you right now."  

When I returned to Honduras, on Good Friday I was praying and I asked God to help me understand Christ's sacrifice on the cross better, that I wanted to experience that which he knew I could handle to help me understand, and while lying awake in bed I stretched out my right hand and thought about the nail and from outside my window I heard a loud and resounding WHACK, of what sounded like a wooden mallet on a stake.  When I thought about my left hand, and in perfect timing again, I heard again a WHACK, and a third time when I crossed my feet.  Utterly shocked, I jumped out of bed and ran to the window to look outside (it was around midnight) and there was no one there.  I was not asleep (and I was not on chloroquine or any other drug!).  God gave me what I asked for and only as much as I could handle…the sound of a mallet driving nails into the Son of God.

Living in Grace

So here I am, living one breath at a time, in faith, in struggle, in love; in pursuit of a more intimate relationship with God.  The life I now live I live in Christ, and each day I learn more about myself and my relationship with Jesus.  A lot of what I learn is hard, mostly because I make it that way.  I forget that I have died and I am something new.  I forget to keep Him at the center of all thoughts and things.  I stumble and fall away to the patterns of a world which teaches that it’s all about me.   Because that’s what it is not all about.  It is all about Him.  It’s all about a love relationship with Him. 

I am not here to do anything for the people of Honduras.  The God of Abraham, the God of Jacob, the God of Moses, the one True Living God, who is omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent doesn’t need me to do anything for Him!  In faith and upon His strength, I am being the new me.  I am here seeking Him and His heart, and each day as I draw closer to Him in that relationship, He reveals Himself to me and invites me to join Him in His work.

A Testimony

My name is Dominic and I am the only son in a family of seven.  God has known me and my name since before the beginning of time itself.  I seek Him because He first chose me.  Merciful and sweet savior, redeemer and King of Kings; Jesus Christ...I am yours, as the name given me and so it means…“Belongs to God”.  Soli Deo gloria!

So in the span of my years, this is seemingly a long time coming.  But in the extent of His mercy, it’s but a twinkling of the eye.  I cannot help but feel the following words calling up from the pages and speaking unto my own circumstances:

“Brothers, think of what you were when you were called.  Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth.”

1 Corinthians 1:26

Indeed, I try not to think too much about what I was when I was called into this present Grace.  But dare I think I must now share that which I was?  Should I begin by describing the depths to which I sank amidst a sea of alcoholism?  Who hand-in-hand (or more aptly, chain-to-chain) dragged me asunder with moral assassins lust and obscenity?  Shall I describe in detail the sickly and corrosive fibers of my covetousness, selfishness, and wholly unflattering and double-wide ego?  Should I divulge as to the unhealthy proportions of hatred, greed, sloth, and self-loathing that dressed this colossal mess of a ‘man’? 

“But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong; He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things — and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him.” 1 Corinthians 1:27-29

Would you believe that I was once not unlike one Saul? I however distinctly lacking real intellect and zeal for righteousness, but rather living in a false and self-declared uprightness?  And who instead relying quite distastefully upon fanciful (and so-called) ‘knowledge’ and whet an eager appetitive for destructive rhetoric?  How I used to lambaste my saved sisters, becoming my own personal antichrist who sought to deal a deathblow to good faith because of my need to feed a festering wound in the shape and proportions of a man’s ego!  How I used to thump the less-than holy doctrine of evolution, which would now require more faith of me to accept than my everlasting savior Jesus Christ!

“It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God —that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption.”

1 Corinthians 1:30

I do not share these things so that I can proclaim how much better I am now.  Pride is like a panther that vigilantly waits to lurch between me and the Light, stealing joy and fellowship with God.  Whatever good has come in me has been from the inside and been working its way out.  It is by the power of the Holy Spirit dwelling within that I have been changed, and this is not by me.  And every day and in every moment still more is revealed that needs to be cast-off and put at His feet.

“Therefore, as it is written: ‘Let him who boasts boast in the Lord.’”

1 Corinthians 1:31

I write this for my friends and family who wander still in search of something that seems elusive. Like distant memories of a pleasant dream that disappears with the morning.  Perhaps you live day-to-day, uncomfortably within your skin, shifting and stretching, feeling as though you were meant for something more.  Like a sprinter who has legs to run, but hasn’t yet found their race.  I write this for the complete stranger who stumbled upon this message and God has chosen this moment to shine into their soul and peel apart darkness.  I write this to bring glory to Him.  For God does not need me to fulfill His will.  Yet He has invited me into this relationship and this calling to join Him in His purposes.

The Grace and Fellowship I now abide in, I do because He loved me first.  I am…completely unworthy of this gift and crumble in awe of what He has done for me, and for all.  And for you too, as you’re calling to believe, if it has not already come to pass, may be waiting in the twinkling of His eye.

Before I begin I offer a disclaimer.  I don’t know much of anything, and I know little about even less.  If what I share this morning offends you, then it is likely me that you have encountered.  If what I share amuses, then it might be me but depends on the nature of the amusement.  If some fragment of what I share speaks truth, then that is surely not me.  But already, I have assumed too much, and either way, I hope you will accept my sincere apologies for whatever shortcomings I reveal of myself, my writing, or my understanding of things of great importance.

Allow me to begin on an honest note (and now that I have your attention): I am, among a multitude of other deeply flawed character traits…a selfish man.  Thus the topic of this devotion has largely been contrived to feed my selfish needs, and today at least (or yesterday as it was), those needs center upon my need to smile and perhaps even laugh.  In doing so, I do hope my words give glory to Him, and if in some small measure you too find yourself smiling or even entertained you will at least know that it was in fact an accident and not my purpose, as I meant this for me, yet you happen to be here too, which regardless was always His clear intent.

Laughter is a powerful medicine, like unbridled joy released upon surprise…like a happy balloon that is unexpectedly popped.  Notice I said a happy balloon, not to be confused with the likes of its evil twin brethren which seek the quiet places in our rooms like a somber marching procession of saboteurs.  Who, while on their way to gang upon the inner chambers of the enemy city stop at nothing to reach their goal.  But I digress.  No, in this case, laughter is like a happy balloon, whose sudden passing merely gleefully punctuates it’s once former stable existence with a gentle, albeit abrupt passing of wind.  You see, the passing of wind is funny in itself, as we have so often learned at this table.

At this point in this devotion, I’d hoped to insert some clever scripture that attests to the healing and therapeutic values of laughter.  This is devotion after all. There is of course Ecclesiastes 3:1-4:

“There is a time for everything, 

and a season for every activity under heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die,

a time to plant and a time to uproot, 

a time to kill and a time to heal, 

a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh, 

a time to mourn and a time to dance”

Solomon was one deep dude.  But here, now, perhaps not exactly what the doctor ordered…but as you can see I am quite desperate to now thump my big Bible’s concordance.  This reminds me of a recent event whereupon my portly Bible and its half-hearted concordance nearly enabled me to swindle others to the quality of my scriptural intellect.  As some of you already know, at last weekend’s YP I came upon a hot streak during the night’s festive Bible Hunt activity.  I had a bit of wicked revelation as to the leader’s methods for selecting the seemingly random scriptures…and must admit that I am still quite amazed at my stroke of genius.  You see, instead of hurriedly thumbing from scripture to scripture, I actually took the time to read each scripture the leader (I prefer to call her the ‘Outfitter’) referenced!  I know…the thought of doing so still confounds me!  After reading several of the selected verses I struck upon the key word she was using in her concordance (if you must know it was “Father”). I then went to my own fat Bible’s concordance, of which I usually pooh-pooh, but on this day celebrated. I experienced instant and easy gratification, successfully “hunting” consecutive verses (oh what delight it brings to be first and right, like getting the big gold-star sticker from the teacher you secretly crush on). 

The game should have been well in hand, with me running away crowned hereto after as “All-Time-King-of-Bible-Hunt” and trouncing that little boastful girl in the third row and thus relocating her genuine Bible prowess to a lower and much less praised rung of Bible Hunt achievement.  It was at that moment that my pride, as small as it is, reared its little receding hairlined-head and grumbled “more”.  The chapter of the next Bible reference had barely left the Outfitter’s lips and I stood, like a pilot in an ejection seat, and shouted the verse, reading it direct from my concordance. 

In the states, I could probably have jokingly claimed Jedi powers to defend my prophetic Bible Hunt abilities since Americans seem far less ardent about their Bible Hunts, fancying them more as a Scripture Safari that seeks photos of posing kittens rather than bagging African man-eaters, as it is here.  Immediately I knew I had violated some unspoken regulation of righteous Bible Hunting.  The Outfitter gave me a stern look and told me that I had to actually look-up the verse.  I know, imagine the nerve of her. She was after all the mother of that smarty-pants in the third row.

Proverbs 17:22 - "A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones."

Humor aside, I think laughter in some ways is the overflow of joy that pours out from our souls.  I don’t think you’ll find that in a dictionary though.  Solomon wrote in Ecclesiastes of the meaninglessness of all things under the sun and apart from God.  Joy should center on God, what He is, what He has done, and the hope we have in our future with Him. 

With these things said, I do not laugh as much as I need to.  When we do not express this joy, it is in my humble opinion that it is the result of one of two circumstances manifesting in our lives: we either lack joy to supply the overflow, or we are containing the overflow from pouring forth.  One is worse than the other, but they both deprive others of a fruit of the Spirit and likewise diminish the depth to which we can adorn glory upon His name.  My prayer for each of you, and myself, is that we will overflow with joy and let it pour out in our witness to His love and grace.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds " James 1:2

"Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer." Romans 12:12

"Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:2

Great-tailed Grackle (Quiscalus mexicanus)

Then Jesus declared, “I am the bread of life.  He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty.”  John 6:35

A featherless and goose-pimpled baby bird cranks its neck skyward.  Its beak wide open; bulbous black eyes remain fixed on a jagged puzzle piece of blue sky cut through a dense green canopy.  The hatchling’s life is tenuously held in a meager balance of minutes and seconds as its racing metabolism needs a constant flow of protein to support rapid growth and development.  For now, it’s frail and tiny pink body appears all-elbows as it waits within a cup of interweaving twigs and branches.

May your mercy come quickly to meet us, for we are in desperate need.  Psalm 79:8b

The open beak serves several purposes.  It’s a cry for food and an easy target for delivery.  It also helps cool a nestling when too hot through panting and evaporative cooling.  Irreverent of heat and surroundings and in a desperate image of dependence, the nestling’s insatiable appetite hastens a weak and desperate cry for food.

       Listen to my cry for help O Lord, my king and my God, for to you I pray.  Psalm 5:2

For the Lord your God is a merciful God; he will not abandon or destroy you

Deuteronomy 4:31a

Sometimes things go wrong in the nest.   The nestling suddenly finds itself hopelessly separated from home, safety, and provider and moreover inappropriately named.  Perhaps it became too curious of the green temptations of the outside world.  Maybe a raucous sibling nudged their nest-mate a little too hard in eager anticipation of another delivery.  For whatever reason, the helpless bird finds itself at the mercy of cruel and withering elements and the eventual scourge of unforgiving predators. 

Do not withhold your mercy from me, O Lord; may your love and your truth always protect me.  Psalm 40:11

Rescued from the brink of extreme dehydration and malnourishment the thankless bird rests and recuperates.  Food and water are the day’s language of love; and it eats heartily and drinks deeply.  Life returns to its weak body and a once dim light in otherwise empty, black eyes begins to brighten.  Seemingly overnight, quill-like feathers emerge from its body looking like bundled dreadlocks.  In just days these sheathed feathers unfurl like flower petals.

“Whoever believes in me, as the Scriptures has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.”  John 7:38

... Grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  2 Peter 3:18a

From hatchling to nestling, and nestling to fledgling, time rolls over as the sun over the sea.  Now and again, the nearly fully grown bird inexplicably returns to its former caretaker.  Sometimes hungry but often simply seeking companionship, it is drawn back to that which was imprinted upon the shady recesses of its memory.   

Look to the Lord and his strength; seek his face always.  Psalm 104:4

With preened feathers its wings beat the air— not yet so gracefully fluttering over the sea and trees, coming and going like the breeze.  Someday, it may soar, and never return.  In the meantime, I watch it dance about from limb to limb and tree to tree.  Sometimes I imagine that it even watches for me.  Stranger still, that when it looks at me, does it wonder, “Am I like you?”  

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come. 

2 Corinthians 5:17