Stand firm

A familiar sound assailed my ears as I walked to the mailbox several weeks ago. The shrill twitter was accompanied by a frenzy of splayed feathers and an exaggerated limp. The message seemed clear enough – “Catch me if you can! You probably can. Look – I’m over here, totally vulnerable.” Pretty sure that’s what Mama Killdeer was trying to tell me. Ironically, had she remained quiet I probably wouldn’t have noticed her at all. But now, considering the ruckus, I knew her precious nest was nearby.

I searched out her treasure. Four stone-coloured eggs rested in a tidy indentation on the edge of the driveway. She continued her attempt to lure me away. “Oh, relax,” I told her. “Once again you’ve chosen a perfectly brilliant location.” (I know – sarcasm is wasted on killdeer, right?)

We poked a fluorescent marker into the ground by the nest. So much for camouflage, but we needed a visual reminder of the nest’s location. We gave it a wide berth with the lawn mower and tried not to destroy it with our vehicles. This spring brought a spate of unseasonably cold, wet days. The killdeer and her mate remained duty bound. Day or night one of them sat on the nest, head hunkered down, feathers puffed up against the rain, sleet and even snow. I would have gladly set up an umbrella for them or a nice, sturdy box if they’d accept it. But I knew better.

Whenever we passed by, the song and dance erupted. Didn’t they recognize us as allies?

Somehow they survived the stream of farm machinery, feed trucks and neighbourhood critters passing by. Then one day as I cut the lawn I noticed both parents were more frantic than usual. A closer look revealed a mound of down-covered hatchlings huddled together. Surely now they’d all take refuge in the adjacent wheat field. However, killdeer are not known for their logic. Within 24 hours the whole family was happily running amok across the barnyard. By some miracle none of them ended up under our wheels.

A commitment to protect

Killdeer are annual tenants on our farm. Every year I admire and respect their tenacity, even if I question their choice of real estate. Regardless of danger and challenges, these birds will protect their young or die trying.

It occurs to me that as Christians, we need that kind of commitment to our calling. I just finished re-reading Corrie Ten Boom’s story, The Hiding Place. Once again, I was amazed at this family’s faith and courage in the face of dreadful persecution. They risked their own lives and freedom to protect others, holding fast to their God throughout all of it. Of course, the truly magnificent part of the story is to see how God remained faithful to each of them in every calamity. It all happened 80 years ago, but Christians living in today’s culture are wise to take note. It’s a timeless testimony of the Lord’s undeniable sovereignty and loving providence, even/especially in times of deadly adversity. He does not abandon his children. Ever!

Yesterday I noticed the killdeer squatting low on the edge of the gravel again. As I approached she started the old come-hither fan dance. The second clutch of eggs is in the nest. Stand firm, brave little birdie. There is nothing to fear.