Fly...

 

Do you not know?
    Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
    the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
    and his understanding no one can fathom.
 He gives strength to the weary
    and increases the power of the weak.
Even youths grow tired and weary,
    and young men stumble and fall;

 but those who hope in the Lord
    will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
    they will run and not grow weary,
    they will walk and not be faint. (Isaiah 40:28-31)

 

            I feel the need to give you the whole passage, but my mind is focusing on the last verse. Read through the whole passage several times, slowly, and aloud. Soak it in.

            Now, as I walked yesterday afternoon, I saw a familiar sight. I wish I could say it was a Bald Eagle soaring on the winds, but it wasn’t. It was a vulture, but it brought the eagle and this passage to mind. Normally, when we explore this passage, we are impressed with the eagle’s wings.   If we see an eagle, a hawk, a falcon, or even a vulture soaring, our response tends to be in the “Ooo … ahh” range, just like Isaiah. They just knew that the eagle could soar for a long time, way up high.

            I’ve learned a little trivia about the eagle’s flight. It usually takes them a couple weeks of hopping from nest to branch (called branching) to build up the skill and strength to take their first real flight. Then they stick around for a while, practicing. Once they learn to fly, they can produce speeds of 35-45 miles per hour using eagle-power. I don’t think that’s what Isaiah was talking about.

            When an eagle soars, it can ride thermal air up as high as 10,000 feet (almost 2 miles.) Generally speaking, they can fly 100-125 miles before taking a rest, four or five hours after they start. And the ooo and ahh get repeated with emphasis. What do you do for four or five hours without resting, and how much do you accomplish while you do it? Let me tell you, when I spend 3 hours pulling weeds, I’m tired.

            As we watch one of these majestic birds, we tend to think that what they’re doing is so easy. It’s like settling into one of those floating chairs and letting the current and breeze take you where it will. No effort at all.

            A week or two ago, I saw a guy with a radio-controlled sailboat on the pond in Zephyr Park. In a moment of curiosity, I asked him what a set up like his cost. Yeah – we’re not going to go there, but the comment he made clinched the deal. “If you don’t know how to sail already, you don’t like it.” Soaring or sailing isn’t as easy as just floating along. It takes strength. There are techniques, and I suspect one of the big skills to soaring is patience.

            So when we read this wonderful passage, and we’re tempted to think in terms of “ease” and then encounter the demands of soaring, we might be tempted to say, “Um, God, what’s going on? Why is my life so hard?” And the answer may be, “I’m teaching you to soar like an eagle.”