The analogy of the burned down nest...

The weather this Spring... oh it has been divine.

We have been putting our grill to good use - you know all those porkchops in my freezer - well here is the best way to cook them. So between that and lunchtime hot dogs for the masses of children running willy-nilly in my backyard - our grill has been well broken in this season and the season has just begun.

But there is one thing that is causing a setback in the BBQ department.

I first noticed it when I went to grill after a winter of not-grilling - a few sticks and some stray feathers - nothing more in my mind than evidence of non-use and backyard chickens.

I cleaned it up only to open it a week later to a similar scene. I determined this was due to crazy Idaho wind until a few weeks later when I went to grill and the thing was crammed full of debris. This wasn't wind. This was a bird - a very determined bird mind you - that has been threading long branches through a tiny circular opening along with bits of trash to make a massive nest that filled our entire four-burner grill. It had gotten so bad that I just had to burn the whole thing out. And about once a week, I repeat my act of arson and I feel worse and worse each time I do it.

When will this bird learn? When will she see that her home is being burned to the ground in regular intervals and find a more secure location? When will she just give up?

As I was running these questions over in my mind while I watched the latest nest's inferno, I couldn't help but feel the tugging of  "There must be a really good analogy in this."

So here it is the analogy of the burned down nest:

Everyday I wake and get to work. I cook. I clean. I bathe. I feed. I hold. I carry. I tickle. I tease. I discipline. I pray. I cook. I clean. I kiss. I snuggle. I cook. I clean. I clean. I clean. There is a rhythm to it. It is as though I am threading long branches through tiny openings. It is satisfying. It is rewarding. It is a lot of work. But I am making something grand in my eyes (although it may not seem like much to those with bigger nests in taller trees) and it fuels me.

But then it comes.  A branch that doesn't quite fit. A string too tangled to weave into the whole.  A piece of clutter that is unruly to work with. And I pull and I push but I feel the lose of control. There is heat. There is pressure. And then all that I have done, all that work, all that good... seems to instantly go up in smoke. 

My little "house" gets burned down. At least once a day, I look around and grieve the hard things that I have done and think, "It is all in shambles."  At least once a day, there is a raised voice, harsh words, or destructive thoughts. At least once a day, I could in complete honesty say, "I am done."

But I am not done.

Something inside me reminds me that even in the ashes of this day that there was once good. There was once fulfillment. There was once purpose. 

And so just like that determined little bird in my barbecue, I wake and get to work. I apologize. I forgive. I pray. I kiss. I carry. I hold. I cook. I clean.

1 comment:

Jana Weaver said...

Beautiful analogy! What a determined bird too!