Heather Holleman's Blog, page 96

The Way of Nature

Something ate our baby robins!

Most likely, a big crow feasted on them. We stand there by the nest, so saddened. We wonder if the mother is sad. Does she mourn? What does she do now?

We realize it’s the way of nature; sometimes, this happens.

The birds shall build another nest in another location and hope for the best. They’ve already left the yard to create a new life elsewhere.

We think about how fragile life is and how precarious. To think of little eggs atop sticks and grass! To think of helpless baby birds growing against a backdrop of storms and cold nights with hungry snakes and crows and owls and chipmunks! How does any bird survive at all?

Every bird is suddenly a miracle to see. You made it! You made it here alive! 

Protect the Fledglings!

It’s almost time for my sparrows (and that one cowbird) to fledge. I love the verb “fledge.” It means to leave the nest. Any day now!

It’s both an exciting and terrifying moment. Think of the vulnerability. Think of the danger. The baby birds will hop around a bit, test out their wings, and hop around some more. They aren’t quite ready to fly (they will eventually), so mostly, they hobble about, flapping their wings, oblivious. In that precarious meantime, I know what I have to do: protect the fledglings! 

I keep my garden cat, Louie, inside. I stay far away from the nest to not cause any distress. I cheer on the baby birds from the kitchen window. Some will fly within a few minutes; some will take the whole day to figure it out. I pray no animal catches them.

Protecting the fledglings means I secure the garden. I keep predators away. I watch carefully. I love thinking of my own moments of fledging when I leave places of safety and familiarity to try my wings for the first time. I think of God securing a perimeter around me, cheering me on. I also think of becoming that protective and encouraging presence for anyone in my life just starting out in some new direction. Protect the fledglings!

 

 

An Idol Present

I’m learning to detect the presence of idols in my heart. I think about this as I read Acts 17:16. We read this: “Now while Paul was waiting for them at Athens, his spirit was provoked within him as he saw that the city was full of idols.”

I think about Paul and his “provoked spirit” because he saw idols people worshiped instead of Jesus. His spirit wouldn’t tolerate it.

I pray mine won’t tolerate it. May I live with a provoked spirit when an idol begins to grow.

A provoked spirit! The phrase makes me thankful for the Holy Spirit who won’t allow idols to grow in our lives. I pray I won’t tolerate even the smallest little bit of a thing I might run to for life or meaning or joy apart from Jesus. These idols are sneaky and often disguised as good things that we’ve now come to worship, adore, and value as part of the good life, as part of what makes life work for us, and as part of our hopes and dreams.

And if you think you don’t have any idols? Think about John Calvin’s famous quote: “the human heart is a perpetual idol factory” [Institutes I.11.8]. It’s making one now. Right now.

But I’m learning detection skills: When I’m deeply afraid of losing something or not gaining something, it’s quite possible that thing has become an idol. When I believe this or that thing must happen for me (or my family) to feel happy or at peace, it’s quite possible I’m dealing with an idol. When I do things to avoid any feeling of shame or to appear a certain way to others, I’m protecting the idol of self. I’m the idol.

Oh, but there’s more! Fear, jealousy, shame, greed: they help us sniff out the idol so we can cast it aside. If those feelings overcome me, I wonder what thing, person, or experience I’ve set above Jesus. I wonder where I’m running for life apart from the only One who gives it abundantly. When I’m destabilized, it’s because I’m carrying an idol that won’t let me walk without falling.

When I reveal the idol and renounce my allegiance to it, suddenly, peace and joy return to my heart. I’m made to worship Jesus. And for today, I’ve stopped the churning of my idol factory.

 

The Lady Slipper Orchids

For the past ten years, I’ve learned to look carefully–right during this very week in May–for the secret lady slipper orchids. They bloom deep in the forest, but you have to look. You have to seek them like rare, hidden treasures. You’ll miss them if you walk by too quickly. It’s odd that they blend in even while boasting a pink, delicate slipper of a bloom.

When I find them in May, I cannot help but squeal with delight and clap my hands. I tell my family that there’s never just one. The lady slippers exist in enormous symbiotic communities as they support one another and the big trees towering over them. You’ll run down the path and find more and more. But keep looking. You’ll miss them if you aren’t careful.

When the Lilac Blooms

The entire backyard smells of sweet lilac. We long for the day in May when the lilac blooms!

The Cool of the Evening

It’s unseasonably hot in Pennsylvania, so we shift our walking and hiking to the cool evening hours. I discover the benefits of evening walking at dusk: the setting sun casts beautiful golden beams (and later, it leaves the most stunning dark blue sky); the animals come out (deer, owls, rabbits); the traffic and daytime sounds cease (it’s man-quiet but bug-loud); and you find you shed the weary burdens of the day as you walk.

We have enjoyed hiking around Colyer Lake, Lake Perez, Alan Seeger, Fisherman’s Paradise, and just around our own neighborhood. Central Pennsylvania offers so many wonderful trails to follow. In my gratitude journal this morning, I thanked the Lord for forests, streams, and trails.

Last night, my feet were so tired, so I put up a camping chair and soaked my feet in the cool of Colyer Lake as my husband and daughter walked the trail. I read a book and relaxed as the sun set. I celebrated with a nearby fisherman reeling in a big catch. I turned my head in the direction of loud bullfrogs. And then I packed up to go home.

 

 

Not Always Where You Belong

While watering the garden this morning, I noticed that dill plants have sprouted up everywhere: in the pots, by the tomatoes, around the border of the vegetable garden. The dill was supposed to stay neatly within its raised boxed garden by the fence. Dill does not listen. Dill does not obey.

I didn’t account for wind dispersing all the seeds. I didn’t think dill seeds would float everywhere and take root.

It made me consider how we’re not supposed to be everywhere, go everywhere, do everything. Even though we can, we don’t have to (and perhaps we shouldn’t). God sets the boundaries of our lives and our callings, and just because our seeds could take root in all sorts of places—and even become exceedingly fruitful—it’s not always right. It’s not what God has ordained. I think about this. I want to listen. I want to obey and stay where I should.

Sometimes when you begin to move in the direction of your calling, you’ll feel the pressure to do more in more places. You’ll wonder if you should do this or that. People will even tell you to do more or become more. My best advice? Pray and listen to the Holy Spirit. Learn the Shepherd’s voice. Obey. The world will blow you around and scatter you on the alluring wind. All those seeds you’re sending out to the world might take root in unhealthy or wrong places for you. Jesus might keep you small and hidden yet powerful. He’ll plant you in your perfect spot.

I uprooted the misplaced dill and sent it back to its home. I will have the most beautiful and bountiful dill garden—safe and cozy in its home near the brown fence.

Enter Like This

This morning, I noted some special instructions about entering the presence of the Lord. Now I know we can enter God’s presence with confidence–at any time and in any condition–because of Jesus. Consider Hebrews 10:9: “Therefore, brothers and sisters. . .we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus” and Ephesians 1:12 where we learn that, because of Jesus, and “in him and through faith in him we may approach God with freedom and confidence.” 

So we know we approach God freely and confidently because of Jesus. But what else? In Psalm 95:2, I look carefully at this beautiful invitation: “Let us coming his presence with thanksgiving.” Thanksgiving! Often, I come into the presence of the Lord with worrying, complaining, or asking. But today I start with thanksgiving.

Then, I read the second invitation a few verses later to “come, let us worship and bow down; let us kneel before the Lord, our Maker!”

I think about bowing down and literally kneeling before the Lord. It’s such a posture of submission, dependency, and honor. But do we do it? Right now, we can kneel down and physically bow before God as we begin our thanksgiving.

I consider how these two invitations—to thanksgiving and to kneeling—add so much to our practice of entering God’s presence.

Getting Moving in the Morning

I talk to students often about starting a great morning routine. They agree that a morning routine makes all the difference in shaping a great day. Some students wake up 2 minutes before class, race across campus, and dive into their seats. They stay frazzled the rest of the day. Others wake up 2 hours before they need to arrive somewhere. And they love that time. (I’ve even had students write compelling opinion pieces on the power of a good morning routine.)

Here’s what they say:

I brew fresh coffee and sit on my porch to think. 

I make a gourmet breakfast sandwich—eggs, bacon, avocado, and cheese— on an English muffin. I take my time with it. Then I go get coffee somewhere and enjoy walking around campus. 

I love thinking, writing in a gratitude journal, and cleaning my room; I always make my bed and drink hot tea. 

In the summer, my own morning routine changes. This change prompted this blog post because I realize how much I love a strong morning routine! In the summer, I brew coffee and empty the dishwasher as it brews. Then, I take my coffee into the garden to begin watering. I sip my coffee and enjoy the morning air and sounds of all the birds. Taking care of the garden could take 20 minutes or so because I also have to examine the plum trees and check for pests or infection. Then, I come back inside to read my Bible, journal, think, write, and pray. I love it when I have 1-2 hours for this kind of devotional time.

Normally, by 9:00 AM, the business work of the day begins and doesn’t stop till 5:00 PM, so that morning routine matters. It means I want to wake up by 6:30 AM or so. When I don’t have a morning routine, I’m that frazzled student who dives into the next thing and never feels settled.

Whatever your morning looks like–and whenever it begins–I recommend the morning routine.

Sparrows and Robins Together

In the winterberry bush, a robin built her nest right next to the sparrow nest. I suppose our attempts to woo birds to the backyard worked indeed! We provided nesting materials (twigs, hair, twine, grasses), a bird bath, and plenty of birdseed. We also have a fence that keeps out most wildlife. Perhaps best of all? Our garden cat Louie—while terrorizing these poor birds–also keeps the chipmunks, squirrels, and other predators away who might disturb the nests and even eat the eggs.

The sparrow eggs hatched yesterday, but the robin just laid her third beautiful egg. In 15 days or so, the baby sparrows will leave the nest, just in time for the robin eggs to hatch. What fun to watch!