Under Her Wings

An article in National Geographic several years ago provided a penetrating picture of God's wings.

After a forest fire in Yellowstone National Park, forest rangers began their trek up a mountain to assess the inferno's damage. One ranger found a bird literally petrified in ashes, perched statuesquely on the ground at the base of a tree. Somewhat sickened by the eerie sight, he knocked over the bird with a stick. When he struck it, three tiny chicks scurried from under their dead mother's wings. The loving mother, keenly aware of impending disaster, had carried her offspring to the base of the tree and had gathered them under her wings, instinctively knowing that the toxic smoke would rise.

She could have flown to safety but had refused to abandon her babies. When the blaze had arrived and the heat had scorched her small body, the mother had remained steadfast. Because she had been willing to die, those under the cover of her wings would live.

"He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge..." (Psalm 91:4)

My Mother Had Only One Eye

Author Unknown

My mom only had one eye. I hated her...She was such an embarrassment. She cooked for students and teachers to support the family.

There was this one day during elementary school where my mom came to say hello to me. I was so embarrassed. How could she do this to me? I ignored her, threw her a hateful look and ran out. The next day at school one of my classmates said, "Eeee, your mom only has one eye!"

I wanted to bury myself. I also wanted my mom to just disappear. I confronted her that day and said, "If you're only gonna make me a laughing stock, why don't you just die?"

My mom did not respond. I didn't even stop to think for a second about what I had said, because I was full of anger. I was oblivious to her feelings. I wanted out of that house, and have nothing to do with her.

So I studied real hard, got a chance to go abroad to study. Then, I got married. I bought a house of my own. I had kids of my own. I was happy with my life, my kids and the comforts.

Then one day, my Mother came to visit me. She hadn't seen me in years and she didn't even meet her grandchildren. When she stood by the door, my children laughed at her, and I yelled at her for coming over uninvited. I screamed at her, "How dare you come to my house and scare my children! GET OUT OF HERE NOW!!!"

And to this, my mother quietly answered, "Oh, I'm so sorry. I may have gotten the wrong address," And she disappeared out of sight.

One day, a letter regarding a school reunion came to my house. So I lied to my wife that I was going on a business trip. After the reunion, I went to the old shack just out of curiosity.

My neighbors said that she died. I did not shed a single tear. They handed me a letter that she had wanted me to have.

"My dearest son, I think of you all the time. I'm sorry that I came to your house and scared your children. I was so glad when I heard you were coming for the reunion. But I may not be able to even get out of bed to see you. I'm sorry that I was a constant embarrassment to you when you were growing up.

You see...when you were very little, you got into an accident, and lost your eye.
As a mother, I couldn't stand watching you having to grow up with one eye. So I gave you mine. I was so proud of my son who was seeing a whole new world for me, in my place, with that eye.

With all my love to you,

Your mother."

Bamboo

Once upon a time, in the heart of a kingdom, lay a beautiful garden. And there, in the cool of the day, the Master of the garden would walk around. Of all the denizens of the garden, the most beautiful and most beloved was the gracious and noble bamboo. Year after year, the bamboo grew yet more noble and gracious, conscious of his Master’s love and watchful delight, but modest and gentle. And often when the wind came to revel in the garden, the bamboo would cast aside his grave stateliness, to dance and play right merrily, tossing and swaying and leaping and bowing in joyous abandon, leading the Great Dance of the garden, which delighted the Master’s heart.

Now, once upon a day, the Master himself drew near to contemplate his bamboo with eyes of curious expectancy. And the bamboo, in a passion of adoration, bowed his great head to the ground in loving greeting.

The Master spoke: "Bamboo, Bamboo, I would use you."

The bamboo flung his head to the sky in utter delight. The day of days had come, the day for which he had been made, the day to which he had been growing hour by hour, the day in which he would find his completion and his destiny.

His voice came low, "Master, I’m ready. Use me as Thou wilt."

“Bamboo,” the Master’s voice was grave, "I would have to take you and cut you down!"

A trembling of great horror shook the bamboo, "Cut...me...down? Me... who thou, Master, has made the most beautiful in all thy Garden...cut me down! Ah, not that. Not that. Use me for the joy, use me for the glory, oh master, but cut me not down!"

"Beloved Bamboo," the Master’s voice grew graver still, "If I cut you not down, I cannot use you."

The garden grew still. Wind held his breath. The bamboo slowly bent his proud and glorious head, and whispered, "Master, if thou cannot use me other than to cut me down.. then do thy will and cut."

"Bamboo, beloved Bamboo, I would cut your leaves and branches from you also."

"Master, spare me. Cut me down and lay my beauty in the dust; but would thou also have to take from me, my leaves and branches too?"

"Bamboo, if I cut them not away, I cannot use you."

The Sun hid his face. A listening butterfly glided fearfully away. And the bamboo shivered in terrible expectancy, whispering low, "Master, cut away then."

"Bamboo, Bamboo, I would yet… split you in two and cut out your heart, for if I cut not so, I cannot use you."

The bamboo bowed to the ground, "Master, Master...then cut and split."

So did the Master of the garden took the bamboo
and cut him down...
and hacked off his branches...
and stripped off his leaves...
and split him in two...
and cut out his heart.

And lifting him gently, carried him to where there was a spring of fresh sparkling water in the midst of his dry fields. Then putting one end of the broken Bamboo in the spring and the other end into the water channel in His field, the Master laid down gently his beloved Bamboo...And the spring sang welcome, and the clear sparkling waters raced joyously down the channel of the bamboo’s torn body into the waiting fields. Then the rice was planted, and the days went by, and the shoots grew and the harvest came.

In that day Bamboo, once so glorious in his stately beauty, was yet more glorious in his brokenness and humility. For in his beauty he was life abundant, but in his brokenness he became a channel of abundant life to his Master’s world.