Seagulls vs The Cars on Mission BLVD
When our friends make destructive choices, what are we to do?
Last week I was driving home from surfing when I saw an odd sight on Mission boulevard. There was a seated seagull in the street surrounded by other seagulls.
As cars zoomed by, the two winged protectors spread their wings as high and wide as possible to fend off the fast moving vehicles. They were brave and protective of their friend.
A few days later on my way to surf, I pulled back on to Mission boulevard preoccupied with the waves.
Suddenly the cars in front of me slowed down to a crawl, but not before I heard several sickening thuds.
What the heck were the birds doing here again? I parked my car across the street, grabbed an old pizza box and started to search for survivors.
There were several. I was able to scoot a couple on to the sidewalk with little fight.
Another resisted but eventually dragged a broken wing behind it to safety.
By then another motorist had pulled over and tried to help me corral the birds out of the street.
THUMP. Another bird was hit.
One SUV slowly hovered over and still the bird didn’t move.
The driver was stuck as cars behind began to honk. Each bird continued to fight our help.
I imagined them saying:
Leave me alone! I just need to seek my peace here. I just need to get my thoughts together.
While cars barreled down on them.
I considered the fierce loyalty of their friends doing anything to get them to the sidewalk, even challenging an F-150 with their propped up chest and outstretched wings.
What love. What kindness.
What sacrifice.
Soon all the birds left in the street were lifeless and limp. Twisted in unnatural positions. Surrounded by feathers and waste.
I was reminded of my many friends in the church who have sometimes run into the street where the devil steamrolls anyone without protection.
I recognize, in those moments, I’m a bit like the birds with outstretched arms, selling out to protect my loved ones from the diesel spewing hatred and loneliness the devil sells to unwitting roadkill. And I also recognize they will sometimes see ME as the enemy.
It’s a hopeless feeling, when I’ve done all I can do.
But I’m grateful our God roams all streets searching for lost and injured creations who have ventured too far from the nest.
He is not hilariously undergunned with a pizza box as I was.
He is all powerful. He is all loving. He can stop a truck with his powerful frame.
And that is where I place my hope. In our good and loving God.
For those who have strayed.
For those we chase down.
My God loves them more than me and HE can save them where I cannot.
I am still going to do all I can to chase down the people I love.
I have to, not because it’s a command, but because God’s love for them spills out of me.
And wherever my weak wings fail,
HE is Strong.
When someone ventures to the unforgiving dark streets of their soul,
I can remember.
My God is hope.
Psalm 91
The one who lives under the protection of the Most High
dwells in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say concerning the Lord, who is my refuge and my fortress,
my God in whom I trust:
He himself will rescue you from the bird trap,
from the destructive plague.
He will cover you with his feathers;
you will take refuge under his wings.
His faithfulness will be a protective shield.
I’ll see you on the BLVD,
Pastor Dale