We head north on the annual Thanksgiving trip to celebrate the holiday with family. Some years we steer off course to stop in a little town sitting in the middle of rice farms, but its not your typical farming community. It lies where all North American flyways converge…a mecca of well…waterfowl.
Birds swarm the sky and I’m pretty sure there is enough camo clad hunters to keep the entire country fed for a while. The men in my family are all giddy with smiles as we step into one of their favorite places.
We wander through camouflage clothing and dishes and decorations. Who knew there were so many patterns! There are decoys, waders and hats galore. Not to mention the background music of calls a quacking. You could say I’m a duck out of water in this place. My hubby says camo is the new black. Uhh…no. It’s not.
As we continue our journey north, thousands of birds fly in the opposite direction. We drive by rice fields white with waterfowl of all shapes and sizes.
I listen to my happy hunters discuss speckled bellies and mallards all the while thinking…how do they know. Really. How do they know where to go as they fly miles and miles with no map…or GPS? What happens when they veer off course, can’t find food or water, or just don’t want to fly any longer? How do they decide which one will fly the point of the “v” formation? Do they ever get frustrated with their leader? Do they have a leave no duck behind mentality?
I know, I know. They’re birds but this mystery of migration has me spinning questions like a preschooler asking the constant “why” questions.
The Advent devotional today reminds me of the question God asked. After they fell to temptation…veered off course…brought sin into perfection.
“Where are you?”
He knew the answer. He always does, and maybe we need to know where we are. So I asked the question today. Where are you? No answer. God, where am I? Are you o.k. with where I am? Am I lost…missing something…hiding in some way?
In the stillness of no answer, no red pin falling on my GPS map I begin to realize something. We’re all on a migratory journey. Lives are not measured in miles but moments. And this moment is exactly where I am. This moment is the only place I experience the fullness of His presence. This is the only moment I have…the only moment I need.
There are days I’m confident in the journey. Flying high trusting where He leads. Other days I veer off course, lose my way, land hard in the field of exhaustion.
Maybe the point is to just keep flying no matter where I am and trusting every single moment brings me closer to Him. Because He knows where I am and where I’m headed and this is more than enough.