Isaiah 40

Waiting Room Wisdom

Posted on by Betsy

The saying goes that “good things come to those who wait”. I remember a time in the Navy when that saying was replaced with “hurry up and wait.” Going to the Exchange? Hurry up. Then wait. Seeing a doc at the base clinic? Hurry up. Be on time for your appointment. Then wait. The deployment is almost over … hurry up and come home! Then wait.

There are many times in everyone’s life when hurry up and wait comes in to play: College applications are due by a certain date. Hurry up and fill them out! Then wait to see if you got in. Cancer tests are scheduled for this day; hurry up and get ready! Then wait for weeks for the results. Babies come when they want to. Pre-labor beings! Hurry up! Then wait forever.

Waiting is hard. Waiting is wearisome. Waiting slap wears you OUT.

The people of Israel were promised a Messiah. The Messiah would come to rule his kingdom on earth. He would take away their sins and would save them. Under his reign, justice would flow like the waters, and there would be peace on earth. But they were beginning to get tired of waiting:

Isaiah 40 (NIV)

28 Have you not known? Have you not heard?

The Lord is the everlasting God,

    the Creator of the ends of the earth.

He does not faint or grow weary;

    his understanding is unsearchable.

29 He gives power to the faint,

    and strengthens the powerless.

30 Even youths will faint and be weary,

    and the young will fall exhausted;

31 but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,

    they shall mount up with wings like eagles,

they shall run and not be weary,

    they shall walk and not faint.

And so Israel hurried up. And waited. Centuries passed from the time of Isaiah to the advent of Jesus Christ. And then they had waited so long, many didn’t recognize him as the Messiah. But some did. Perhaps they were the ones who waited with open anticipation. As you wait, are you open to receiving God’s answer in a completely different way than you are expecting? Jesus was not what was expected, but good things came to those who waited for him.

Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength. Why? Because God does not faint or grow weary. God gives power to the faint. He strengthens the powerless. You will mount up with wings like eagles if you choose to wait for the Lord.

The challenge is to spend your time in the “waiting room” wisely. What else can you be doing while you wait? Can you be immersed in the word? Shoring up failing relationships? Actively spreading hope to others who are also waiting? Witnessing to God’s presence in the waiting room? Waiting rooms can be places that bear just as much fruit as delivery rooms if we keep our eyes open while we wait.

What are you waiting for right now? While we wait upon the Lord to deliver, we gain strength in knowing that God never grows weary. And so we take this time in our waiting room to grow in our love of God, of family, of faith, and in confidence that in every hurry-up and every slow-down moment, God is with us.

And I just can’t wait to see what he does.

Bay Drive Nutria

Wet Wings

Posted on by Betsy

Behold the lovely cormorant. These waterfowl are common in central Florida, and they live along lakes that provide them with fish feasts. This fellow took a lively dip into the water, caught his breakfast, and then perched along the shore on a rock to dry out his wings.

You see, wet wings don’t fly.

The water adds weight that makes it hard to lift the wing, and so the bird must patiently spread his wings out and wait for the air to eventually dry out his feathers.

There is a lot to be gleaned from his behavior.

So often we approach a situation with wet wings, not realizing that time and air will assist us if we are patient enough. When we look at a problem with the cumbersome burden of the past, the weight of our sin, or the heaviness of anxiety that is strong enough to immobilize us, we fail to do what we were meant to do: To soar.

Isaiah 40 (Evangelical Heritage Version)

But those who wait for the Lord will receive new strength.
They will lift up their wings and soar like eagles.
They will run and not become weary.
They will walk and not become tired.

Did you catch that? Wait. Wait for the Lord. Wait for your roiling emotions to settle down enough to think more clearly. Wait for God to intervene, and don’t try to take matters into your hands until he does. Wait long enough to pray and listen to his answer.

Just wait.

Are you troubled this morning by something you can’t control? Are your wings heavy with regret or indecision? Do you believe God has a plan? Just wait.

God desires that we soar like eagles who fly with grace, ease, and joy. Maybe in order to do that today, we’ll need to stop and dry out our wings. May we find new strength in the waiting so that we can move forward with energy and purpose.

Wet Wings

In the Waiting Room

Posted on by Betsy

The saying goes that “good things come to those who wait”. I remember a time in the Navy when that saying was replaced with “hurry up and wait.” Going to the Exchange? Hurry up to get there. Then wait. Seeing a doc at the base clinic? Hurry up and be on time for your appointment. Then wait. The deployment is almost over, and the squadron will be home soon. Hurry up, husband! Then wait.

There are many times in everyone’s life when hurry up and wait comes in to play: College applications are due by a certain date. HURRY UP and fill them out! Then wait to see if you got in. Cancer tests are scheduled for this day; hurry up! Then wait for weeks for the results. Babies come when they want to. Pre-labor beings! Hurry up! Then wait.

Waiting is hard.

Waiting is worrisome.

Waiting slap wears you OUT.

The people of Israel were promised a messiah. The messiah would come to rule his kingdom on earth. He would take away their sins and would save them. Under his reign, justice would flow like the waters, and there would be peace on earth. But they were beginning to get tired of waiting:

Isaiah 40 (NIV)

28 Have you not known? Have you not heard?

The Lord is the everlasting God,

    the Creator of the ends of the earth.

He does not faint or grow weary;

    his understanding is unsearchable.

29 He gives power to the faint,

    and strengthens the powerless.

30 Even youths will faint and be weary,

    and the young will fall exhausted;

31 but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,

    they shall mount up with wings like eagles,

they shall run and not be weary,

    they shall walk and not faint.

And so Israel hurried up. And waited. Centuries passed from the time of Isaiah to the advent of Jesus Christ. By then they had waited so long they didn’t recognize him as the messiah. But some did. Perhaps they were the ones who waited with open anticipation. As you wait, are you open to receiving God’s answer in a completely different way than you are expecting? Jesus was not what was expected, but good things came to those who waited for him.

Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength. Why? Because God does not faint or grow weary. God gives power to the faint. He strengthens the powerless. But you … you will mount up with wings like eagles if you choose to wait for the Lord.

The challenge is to spend your time in the “waiting room” wisely. What else can you be doing while you wait? Can you be immersed in the word? Shoring up failing relationships? Actively spreading hope to others who are also waiting? Witnessing to God’s presence in the waiting room? Waiting rooms can be places that bear just as much fruit as delivery rooms if we keep our eyes open while we wait.

While we wait upon the Lord to deliver, we gain strength in knowing that God never grows weary. And so we take this time in our waiting room to grow in our love of God, of family, of faith, and in confidence that in every hurry-up and every slow-down moment, God is with us.

And I just can’t wait to see what he does.

Peaceful, Easy Morning by Michelle Robertson

Black and Blue Christmas

Posted on by Betsy

When I was a child, my family’s Christmas lights were red, yellow, green, white, and orange. I don’t recall when blue lights came into vogue, but I remember being stunned the first time I saw a tree vibrant with blue LED lights dominating the color scheme. Blue is now my favorite Christmas light color.

After all, blue is the liturgical color for the season of Advent.

Then I experienced my first “blue Christmas,” a phrase now used to define a sad, lonely, and sorrowful Christmas. Not everybody has a holly, jolly Christmas. The loss of a loved one, a divorce, a family member not being able to come home, having to work over the holidays, and just plain disappointment can all lead to feeling blue during the most wonderful time of the year. My blue Christmas was due to three things. I had moved away from my church of 16 years, and I was on leave with no Christmas Eve services to look forward to. My oldest daughter had just gotten married and was spending Christmas in another state with her in-laws. Worst of all, my father passed away suddenly two days after Thanksgiving.

I wasn’t just blue, I was black and blue.

Have you ever felt like a holiday could smack you right down? Holidays can be sneaky little buggers. They can come up behind you without any warning in the mall or at a party and poke you so hard from behind that it knocks the wind right out of you. A flash of memory, a familiar song, a taste of nostalgia, and suddenly, unbidden, you are feeling the pain of your loss with such intensity that you can’t move or breathe. The unhappy irony of that is that Christmas is the celebration of the Prince of Peace, the Comforter:

Isaiah 40

1 Comfort, O comfort my people,

    says your God.

2 Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,

    and cry to her

that she has served her term,

    that her penalty is paid,

that she has received from the Lord’s hand

    double for all her sins.

3 A voice cries out:

“In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord,

    make straight in the desert a highway for our God.

4 Every valley shall be lifted up,

    and every mountain and hill be made low;

the uneven ground shall become level,

    and the rough places a plain.

5  Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,

    and all people shall see it together,

    for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”

Even in the bluest of Christmases, God comes into our valley of sorrow to lift us up and level us out. Grief is a natural expression of a life that was well loved. It is the heart’s way of dealing with the unthinkable void that death creates. God longs to bring comfort to his people who mourn. He longs to comfort you in your blueness. And here is the good news: he will stay by your side until you begin to feel just the smallest and slightest bit better. And eventually you will.

He won’t leave you or grow tired of comforting you, for he is the everlasting God.

28  Have you not known? Have you not heard?

The Lord is the everlasting God,

    the Creator of the ends of the earth.

He does not faint or grow weary;

    his understanding is unsearchable.

29 He gives power to the faint,

    and strengthens the powerless.

30 Even youths will faint and be weary,

    and the young will fall exhausted;

31 but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,

    they shall mount up with wings like eagles,

they shall run and not be weary,

    they shall walk and not faint.

Are you having a blue Christmas this year? You are not alone. If you look around, you will probably find others in the same color scheme as you. So don’t feel ignored or left out of all of the “have yourself a merry little Christmas” celebrations…others are faking it, too.

I hugged a friend last week who just lost her mother. I know she is dreading this Christmas. I have experienced that same dread and the feeling of disconnect with the joy-to-the-world spirit that others were feeling. I even felt resentful and could not wait for Christmas to be over. As I held her, I heard myself saying, “Every time you miss your mom this season, try to get up and do something for someone else. Think of someone who needs a prayer, or a card, or a casserole, and focus on that.”

I don’t know if that will help. I do know that when we push our way out of our circumstance, we survive for another day and live to tell about it. Sometimes that’s all we can hope for. Blue Christmases are a game of survival. And when grief finally loosens its stranglehold on us, we can begin to feel joy again.

So look around. Others are blue, too. Somebody you know is having a bleak mid-winter this year. Find someone who needs their pain to be acknowledged and let them know that you see them. When you do that, blueness begins to fade….theirs, and yours.

The Cold of Winter by Michelle Robertson

Power Lifting

Posted on by Betsy

Want to learn more about theology? Talk to a three-year-old. The study of theology should include a mandatory class on how three-year-olds experience God. All of the books, commentaries, studies, and wise masters of thought can’t hold a candle to the simple observation of these tiny theologians.

Many years ago I had a chance to be schooled by my then three-year-old grandson Connor. He put my seminary years to shame. And to the test. One morning we came upon a dead bird on the street on our walk. I remember my alarm bells instantly going off. Danger, danger, warning, Will Robinson!! You’re going to have to explain death in a minute! Sure enough:

Connor: What’s that?

Me: Oh, that’s a dead bird, Sweetie.

Connor: How did it die?

Me: It looks like maybe it fell out of its nest. (Or was attacked and dropped by a larger predator bird … quick .edit. … yeah, it fell out of its nest.)

Connor: Will it wake up?

This is when my sweating turned to praying. The concept of death is a terrible struggle for an adult, much less a concrete, literal thinker who has only been on the planet for 36 months.

Me: No, it won’t.

Connor: Then where will it go?

AHA! Something I know about! Here is a chance to talk to this boy about heaven! Eternal Life! The power of God! The hope! Something I can explain!

Me: It will go to heaven and live with Jesus.

Connor: How will it get there?

Me: God will take it there.

Connor: But how can God lift it up?

Enough with the concrete thinking, young man. We live by faith, not by sight! Boy was he putting my education to the test … and then I remembered a song he had just sung at his pre-school end-of-year program. Thanking God for all things Presbyterian, I said:

Me: Remember the song you just sang at pre-school?

Connor: Yes!

He started to sing “What a Mighty God We Serve.” I started to breathe again.

Me: So God is mighty enough to take the bird up to heaven.

Connor: Can God lift up a bird?

Me: Yes.

Connor: Can God lift up a bush?

Me: Yes.

Connor: Can God lift up a boat?

Me: Yes.

Connor: But God can’t lift up a cactus.

Me: Why not?

Connor: Because he will get a pokey poke.

Me: Its OK, God is stronger than a pokey poke.

We then worked through how God can lift up houses, helicopters, and sharks, even though they bite.

So, I have a simple question for you today. What are you carrying that is impossibly heavy? What burden, sin, problem, or regret are you lugging around that is absolutely crushing you?

And the second question is: Why?

Isaiah 40 ( Common English Bible)
Look up at the sky and consider:
    Who created these?
    The one who brings out their attendants one by one,
    summoning each of them by name.
Because of God’s great strength
    and mighty power, not one is missing.
27 Why do you say, Jacob,
    and declare, Israel,
    “My way is hidden from the Lord,
    my God ignores my predicament”?
28 Don’t you know? Haven’t you heard?
    The Lord is the everlasting God,
    the creator of the ends of the earth.
    He doesn’t grow tired or weary.
His understanding is beyond human reach,
29     giving power to the tired
    and reviving the exhausted.
30 Youths will become tired and weary,
    young men will certainly stumble;
31     but those who hope in the Lord
    will renew their strength;
    they will fly up on wings like eagles;
    they will run and not be tired;
    they will walk and not be weary.

God can lift up any impossible thing that is weighing you down. He can lift you up on eagle’s wings, but only if you let him. Why carry it any longer? Give it over to God and let him do the heavy lifting from now on.

Fly Away by Michelle Robertson

Blue Christmases

Posted on by Betsy

This is an excerpt from ADVENTuring to the Manger, available at Amazon.

When I was a child, my family’s Christmas lights were red, yellow, green, white, and orange. I don’t recall when blue lights came into vogue, but I remember being stunned the first time I saw a tree vibrant with blue LED lights dominating the color scheme. Blue is now my favorite Christmas light color. After all, blue is the liturgical color for the season of Advent.

Then I experienced my first “blue Christmas,” a phrase now used to define a sad, lonely, and sorrowful Christmas. Not everybody has a holly, jolly Christmas. The loss of a loved one, a divorce, a family member not being able to come home, having to work over the holidays, and just plain disappointment can all lead to feeling blue during the most wonderful time of the year. My blue Christmas was due to three things. I had moved away from my church of 16 years, and I was on leave with no Christmas Eve services to look forward to. My oldest daughter had just gotten married and was spending Christmas in another state with her in-laws. Worst of all, my father passed away suddenly two days after Thanksgiving.

I wasn’t just blue; I was black and blue.

Have you ever felt like a holiday could smack you right down? Holidays can be sneaky little buggers. They can come up behind you without any warning in the mall or at a party and poke you so hard from behind that it knocks the wind right out of you. A flash of memory, a familiar song, a taste of nostalgia, and suddenly, unbidden, you are feeling the pain of your loss with such intensity that you can’t move or breathe. The unhappy irony of that is that Christmas is the celebration of the Prince of Peace, the Comforter:

Isaiah 40

1 Comfort, O comfort my people,

    says your God.

2 Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,

    and cry to her

that she has served her term,

    that her penalty is paid,

that she has received from the Lord’s hand

    double for all her sins.

3 A voice cries out:

“In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord,

    make straight in the desert a highway for our God.

4 Every valley shall be lifted up,

    and every mountain and hill be made low;

the uneven ground shall become level,

    and the rough places a plain.

5  Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,

    and all people shall see it together,

    for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”

Even in the bluest of Christmases, God comes into our valley of sorrow to lift us up and level us out. Grief is a natural expression of a life that was well loved. It is the heart’s way of dealing with the unthinkable void that death creates. God longs to bring comfort to his people who mourn. He longs to comfort you in your blueness. And here is the good news: he will stay by your side until you begin to feel just the smallest and slightest bit better. And eventually you will.

He won’t leave you or grow tired of comforting you, for he is the everlasting God.

28  Have you not known? Have you not heard?

The Lord is the everlasting God,

    the Creator of the ends of the earth.

He does not faint or grow weary;

    his understanding is unsearchable.

29 He gives power to the faint,

    and strengthens the powerless.

30 Even youths will faint and be weary,

    and the young will fall exhausted;

31 but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,

    they shall mount up with wings like eagles,

they shall run and not be weary,

    they shall walk and not faint.

Are you having a blue Christmas this year? You are not alone. If you look around, you will probably find others in the same color scheme as you. So don’t feel ignored or left out of all of the “have yourself a merry little Christmas” celebrations…others are faking it, too.

I hugged a friend last week who just lost her mother. I know she is dreading this Christmas. I have experienced that same dread and the feeling of disconnect with the joy-to-the-world spirit that others were feeling. I even felt resentful and could not wait for Christmas to be over. As I held her, I heard myself saying, “Every time you miss your mom this season, try to get up and do something for someone else. Think of someone who needs a prayer, or a card, or a casserole, and focus on that.”

I don’t know if that will help. I do know that when we push our way out of our circumstance, we survive for another day and live to tell about it. Sometimes that’s all we can hope for. Blue Christmases are a game of survival. And when grief finally loosens its stranglehold on us, we can begin to feel joy again.

So look around. Others are blue, too. Somebody you know is having a bleak mid-winter this year. Find someone who needs their pain to be acknowledged and let them know that you see them. When you do that, blueness begins to fade … theirs, and yours.

If you are looking for a resource on grief, try Mourning Break: Words of Hope for Those In Grief, available at Amazon.

Bleak Midwinter by Michelle Robertson

Comfort

Posted on by Betsy

Think about all the things you have accumulated or want to buy so that you can increase your comfort. Soft blankets, large cars with heated seats, remote controls, grocery delivery right to your door … we seek and find comfort wherever it can be found, and Madison Avenue feeds right into our desire to be comfortable. The Pixar movie, “WALL-E” is a cautionary tale about what happens when a society becomes obsessed with “creature comforts.” The people grow large and inactive and can’t get out of their recliners in this movie.

This all begs the question, “what is true comfort”? Does physical ease really satisfy, and is it good for us in the end? Or should we be pursuing spiritual comfort with the same passion as we search for new ways to be comfortable?

Our passage from Isaiah today points us in the right direction.

Isaiah 40 (The Message)

40 1-2 “Comfort, oh comfort my people,”
    says your God.
“Speak softly and tenderly to Jerusalem,
    but also make it very clear
That she has served her sentence,
    that her sin is taken care of—forgiven!
She’s been punished enough and more than enough,
    and now it’s over and done with.”

Comfort comes with the forgiveness of sins. Comfort is found in the presence of God. Comfort is the result of leaving the past behind.

3-5 Thunder in the desert!
    “Prepare for God’s arrival!
Make the road straight and smooth,
    a highway fit for our God.
Fill in the valleys,
    level off the hills,
Smooth out the ruts,
    clear out the rocks.
Then God’s bright glory will shine
    and everyone will see it.
    Yes. Just as God has said.”

As we move toward Christmas morning, Isaiah reminds us of the fact that Jesus’ arrival on earth will level the playing field. No longer will we be Jews or Gentiles and people of separate faiths and nations, but all the earth will be one in the Lord. God’s bright glory will shine, and everyone will see it.

6-8 A voice says, “Shout!”
    I said, “What shall I shout?”

“These people are nothing but grass,
    their love fragile as wildflowers.
The grass withers, the wildflowers fade,
    if God so much as puffs on them.
    Aren’t these people just so much grass?
True, the grass withers and the wildflowers fade,
    but our God’s Word stands firm and forever.”

9-11 Climb a high mountain, Zion.
    You’re the preacher of good news.
Raise your voice. Make it good and loud, Jerusalem.
    You’re the preacher of good news.
    Speak loud and clear. Don’t be timid!
Tell the cities of Judah,
    “Look! Your God!”
Look at him! God, the Master, comes in power,
    ready to go into action.
He is going to pay back his enemies
    and reward those who have loved him.
Like a shepherd, he will care for his flock,
    gathering the lambs in his arms,
Hugging them as he carries them,
    leading the nursing ewes to good pasture.

You, my friend, are the preacher of this good news. We have a Shepherd who gathers us up in his arms and welcomes all to become part of his flock. God comes in power to reclaim his lost children and his Word stands firm.

So, go and preach!

The Wildflowers Fade by Michelle Robertson

Hope Wins

Posted on by Betsy

Today is Wednesday.

I type that with the certainty of a person who thought it was Wednesday all day yesterday. I got up, edited and published my Wednesday devotional and then suddenly remembered it was Tuesday. I went to my Tuesday staff meeting (thank God for that brief moment of clarity!) and then went to pick up my dog from the vet in the afternoon. Then at 5:00 I told my husband that it was time for our Wednesday night family ZOOM call. But it was still Tuesday.

Lest you think I was having a day-long senior moment, (a reasonable guess) I need to explain my lack of focus. On Sunday morning as I was getting ready for church, my 13 -year-old Labrador Retriever collapsed. I called some friends to help me get her in the car. I was able to check her in to an Animal Hospital, and with the very kind and knowledgeable help of Dr. Grossman, she was diagnosed with Vestibular Disease, and we brought her home late Tuesday afternoon. She is wobbly but well.

Those three days were a nightmare for me. I got a harsh reminder of what grief and anxiety feel like. From Sunday morning until she wobbled through the door yesterday, I was in physical and emotional pain. My chest and stomach actually hurt, and I could not keep my mind from going to all of the worst situations. I could not sleep, nor could I eat. Driving up the driveway knowing she would not be running to greet me at the door rendered me paralyzed to the point that I could not get out of the car for fifteen minutes that first day.

Yesterday morning, on my Wednesday/your Tuesday, I woke up to a much too quiet house and proceeded to upload my Wednesday devotional. My mind was spinning, but luckily, I had written it last week. As I worked on it, a large robin red breast perched on the railing right outside my window and sang his beautiful song to me. I stopped and watched him, thanking God for this gift of rare beauty in the midst of my emotional tsunami fog.I felt my heart lift just a tiny bit and I allowed my mind to envision bringing Georgia home and things returning to normal.

In other words, I began to feel hope.

We finally got the call that she had recovered enough to be brought home and I began to feel the deep knot unknot itself. Hope was then affirmed by spotting another red-breasted robin sitting on a hedge outside the vet’s office. God had been with me all along and these two bird sightings were like a sweet tap on the shoulder as he reminded me that he had never left me in those long hours of uncertainty.

Hope is the antidote to grief. Hope stands in the boxing ring with anxiety with its gloved fists raised and yells, “Give me your best shot.” Hope wipes out the fear of the worst thing happening. In the end, hope wins. Even if the worst thing had happened and we lost Georgia, I was reminded that thanks to the hope we have in Jesus Christ’s death and resurrection, I could look forward to that day of seeing her again, whole and restored. And ornery. Always ornery.

When we first got Georgia as a thirteen-week-old puppy, a vet told us that large pure bred dogs like her had a life expectancy of 8 to 12 years. She is thirteen and I know we are living on bonus time. The last three days were just a dress rehearsal for her inevitable curtain call. But somehow, I know that when it happens, peace will come at some point as I anticipate the reality of being reunited again.

Isaiah wrote a lot about hope, and this Scripture describes how I felt … except instead of eagles, I got robins:

Isaiah 40:31 (New Revised Standard Version)

But those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;
    they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
    they shall walk and not faint.

I don’t know what battles of hopelessness you are facing today, but I pray you will take this Scripture to heart. It is hard to wait when you don’t know the outcome, but Jesus reminded us that he is with us wherever we go, even to the land of hopelessness. So hang on! Your Redeemer comes.

Happier Days

Second Chance God

Posted on by Betsy

Meet Rain.

Rain is a very large bald eagle who lives in Sitka, Alaska. She was brought to the Alaska Raptor Center after being found on the ground in Juneau. As soon as the vet got close to Rain, she discovered the cause of Rain’s injury by the way Rain smelled. Rain had flown too close to a power line and had been electrocuted. Her right wingtip was burned.

They were able to surgically remove the damaged wing tip, but after weeks of flying lessons, it was determined that Rain would only ever be able to fly/hop short distances. She would not survive being released back into her forest, which is the goal of the Raptor center. Every year they rehabilitate over 200 damaged eagles, owls, hawks, etc. with the goal of sending them back home safely.

So, what about the ones who will never fly again?

This remarkable facility has a “Raptor-in-Residence” program where birds who can’t be returned to their natural habitats are allowed to live out a full life at this 17-acre aviary oasis. They are well cared for and well fed. And it was apparent that they are also very, very well loved by the staff and volunteers who work there.

In Rain’s case, it was discovered that she seemed to like being around people. During all of her recovery and flight training, she responded well to her handlers and displayed a calm curiosity about the humans around her. So, Rain now serves as a Raptor rehab resident and participates in their educational efforts with visitors and school children. She sits calmly on her trainer’s arm perch and looks around at the visitors with a curiosity usually reserved for cats. She also enjoys the salmon treats that the trainer gives her throughout the talk. What a life! 

When I met Rain, I was instantly reminded of these beautiful words from the book of Isaiah:

Isaiah 40:31  (Common English Bible)

But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength;
they will fly up on wings like eagles;
they will run and not be tired;
they will walk and not be weary.

Have you ever been “burned” by flying too close to something dangerous? Are you exhausted with things right now? Has your strength run out?

Remember Rain. She is a reminder that those who hope in the Creator will be renewed, strengthened, and won’t grow weary. And don’t forget this: God is a God of second chances. He has a plan for your life, and it is a plan to give you a future with hope (Jeremiah 29:11).

May you soar like an eagle today!

Rain by Kenn Haas Jr.

Growing Weary

Posted on by Betsy

Let’s go back to a time in your life when you were truly, utterly, exhausted. For many of us, the first thing that comes to mind is living with a newborn. There is no tired like post-pushing tired. I remember once waking up in the middle of the night to discover that I was standing up and leaning over my daughter’s crib. I had gotten up to soothe her, knowing that she was fed and dry. As I rubbed her back, I fell asleep in that position. I don’t know if I slept for 5 seconds or 5 minutes, but I don’t ever remember being that tired.

There are several variations of “tired.” We can grow weary of relationships. We can feel fatigued at the incessant opposition to our beliefs. We can become quickly exhausted by lack of sleep, lack of courtesy, lack of respect, lack of empathy, and especially lack of hope.

When this pandemic started, I likened it to a marathon, with the good news that every race has a prescribed course that is carefully marked out, and ends with a fixed and discernible finish line. Today I learned that there is something called the “Self-Transcendence 3,100 Mile Race” that takes place in Queens, New York every year. It takes 52 days of running 6 a.m. to midnight to complete it. The average mileage is a little under 60 miles a day. Runners have six hours per day for eating, washing, foot care, and sleep. Just thinking about that makes me tired.

So let me revise my earlier analogy of the pandemic being like a marathon, because now we realize that it is more like a “Self-Transcendence 3,100 Mile Race” and we have all become ultramarathoners.

But don’t miss the point…there is still a finish line at the end of this race, and every morning when we wake up, we are one day closer to the end.

Isaiah has some beautiful things to say about feeling faint, growing weary, being powerless, and where we can go to have our strength renewed:

Isaiah 40 (New Revised Standard Version)

Why do you say, O Jacob,
    and speak, O Israel,
“My way is hidden from the Lord,
    and my right is disregarded by my God”?

28 Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
    the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
    his understanding is unsearchable.

How reassuring is this? We are not running this ultramarathon alone, but indeed, God is running right there with us. He is the everlasting God. HE does not faint or grow weary. And look what happens next:

29 He gives power to the faint,
    and strengthens the powerless.

In the battle of virtual school, virtual church, virtual family birthday parties, virtual work, and virtually everything, God gives power to the faint and strengthens the powerless. We need that NOW.

30 Even youths will faint and be weary,
    and the young will fall exhausted;
31 but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,
    they shall mount up with wings like eagles,
they shall run and not be weary,
    they shall walk and not faint.

Those who wait for the Lord will renew their strength. They shall continue to run this crazy race and not be weary. The finish line is getting closer! Keep your head up and keep putting one foot in front of the other.

We truly are one day closer to the end of this thing.

Finish Line by Erin Gregory