Wild flapping of bird wings caught my attention as I passed the service station by my house. A congregation of blackbirds gathered around a pothole that rain had filled with water. In the hole were several birds. They were plunging beneath the water, rolling and dunking with great delight. Those in the water were thoroughly enjoying the pleasure of their bath while those lining the edges of the hole looked on in seeming support. Their little black heads bobbed back and forth with excitement. When one bird would get out, another would walk into the puddle. It’d stand for a second as if to acclimate, then it’d repeat the joyous dipping and dancing the birds ahead of it had displayed. My heart was warmed as I watched them; their joy delighted me. They were having a blast in a pothole—the place we humans driving into the service station tried valiantly to avoid. Seeing their pleasure, I couldn’t help but think about the difference in our perspective. Scripture often admonishes to delight in our sufferings, to take joy in trials and infirmities, but those are potholes we prefer to avoid. But if we were birds with great soaring wings, diving into the trouble we would have a different viewpoint.
Birds know that the hole is not their dwelling place. They’re never going to net nest in a pothole. They aren’t laying eggs there. They aren’t even meal prepping for future dinners while they’re there. To them, the pothole is temporary. Soon, the rain water will evaporate, and the muddy watering hole will be gone. So why fret that it’s there? Why not experience liberation in it instead?
We too have potholes. Places where we’ve been run over a time or two, places where our substance is a little weaker, places where we are prone to emptiness. Rains of trouble descend and invariably puddle there. Injuries where repetitive hurts have dug deep. Sickness with pain that makes believing feel weak. Loss when we already feel depleted. These rains come to us, and oh, how we long to fly far away from them. But if we have a birds’ eye view of the trouble, we can remind ourselves: we will not live in the trouble; we will not be defined by the trouble; we will not be confined by the trouble. Because our trial is temporary.
So, we face the trouble, not with trepidation, but with triumph, for the difficulty won’t last long. While it is with us, however, it affords what sunny days often do not. In our trouble puddle, we are cleansed, made better, even refreshed in spirit. The residue is washed off our wings, giving the perfect balance of oil to our tools of flight, and we can soar higher and go further than we ever could have if we hadn’t fearlessly and joyfully faced our problems. Knowing that what is being worked in us is for our good (Rom 8:28) is liberating. Knowing the trial prepares us for better things is cause for celebration.
Furthermore, when see others facing a similar trouble, we can dive in with them helping them see hope amid the muddy waters. Scripture calls this bearing one another’s burdens. From the sidelines, we cheer them on, encouraging their success, pointing out the positives, knowing that just as we’ve been through past situations, our turn for trouble will come again, and we, too will step into the waters supported by those who’ve gone through similar things. Knowing we are counted worthy to suffer trials, we will make a splash, rejoicing with an abandon that warms the hearts of those passing by.
Tip/ tidbit: What good can you focus on in your present circumstance? Who might you encourage in their trial today?
Birds know that the hole is not their dwelling place. They’re never going to net nest in a pothole. They aren’t laying eggs there. They aren’t even meal prepping for future dinners while they’re there. To them, the pothole is temporary. Soon, the rain water will evaporate, and the muddy watering hole will be gone. So why fret that it’s there? Why not experience liberation in it instead?
We too have potholes. Places where we’ve been run over a time or two, places where our substance is a little weaker, places where we are prone to emptiness. Rains of trouble descend and invariably puddle there. Injuries where repetitive hurts have dug deep. Sickness with pain that makes believing feel weak. Loss when we already feel depleted. These rains come to us, and oh, how we long to fly far away from them. But if we have a birds’ eye view of the trouble, we can remind ourselves: we will not live in the trouble; we will not be defined by the trouble; we will not be confined by the trouble. Because our trial is temporary.
So, we face the trouble, not with trepidation, but with triumph, for the difficulty won’t last long. While it is with us, however, it affords what sunny days often do not. In our trouble puddle, we are cleansed, made better, even refreshed in spirit. The residue is washed off our wings, giving the perfect balance of oil to our tools of flight, and we can soar higher and go further than we ever could have if we hadn’t fearlessly and joyfully faced our problems. Knowing that what is being worked in us is for our good (Rom 8:28) is liberating. Knowing the trial prepares us for better things is cause for celebration.
Furthermore, when see others facing a similar trouble, we can dive in with them helping them see hope amid the muddy waters. Scripture calls this bearing one another’s burdens. From the sidelines, we cheer them on, encouraging their success, pointing out the positives, knowing that just as we’ve been through past situations, our turn for trouble will come again, and we, too will step into the waters supported by those who’ve gone through similar things. Knowing we are counted worthy to suffer trials, we will make a splash, rejoicing with an abandon that warms the hearts of those passing by.
Tip/ tidbit: What good can you focus on in your present circumstance? Who might you encourage in their trial today?
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