Minutes of Meetings with God
and with Myself

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Eagles ...

It was about the third day into our fishing trip when I heard the screams and my friend pointed to the sky above the lake. Two Bald Eagles had locked talons, challenging each other, probably over food and territory. The huge birds flapped, then tumbled end over end until they splashed into the lake. They continued to struggle with each other briefly, then one managed to fly away. The other eagle, apparently too wet to fly, floated on the water. The eagle that was airborne couldn't resist the impulse to make another pass at the bird in the lake. The floating eagle flipped on its back and extended its talons skyward to fend off the attack. The other bird left.

The eagle in the water began swimming to the nearby shore. It didn't appear to paddle (like a duck); rather it reached out with long strokes of its wings, a sort of eagle "crawl" stroke. Once on the beach, the eagle preened and dried itself for a considerable time, then it took to the air again.

The whole episode lasted no more than a couple of minutes, but they were riveting, exciting minutes. I have never seen anything like those eagles going at each other; and, I expect I never will, again.

Not long after this drama above the lake, I realized I wasn't letting myself enjoy my fishing trip very much. The airplane journey to the lake had been fun. we flew in at about 2,000 feet. I had seen three moose on the flight; The lake where we planned to land had been fogged in, so we landed on another lake about twenty miles away, and waited for about two hours. People with a camp on that lake were very kind and hospitable. They even gave us a quick tour of their place. We finally arrived at the lake where we would be fishing, and settled in, no electricity, no phones, no other people within miles, nothing but the prospect of fishing.

The fight of the eagles seemed to awaken my awareness. Ever since we had been at the lake, I had been having a fight inside myself. There is a song that says: "No matter where you go, there you are." Well, I had gone fishing to get away for awhile, but I had taken myself with me. I had taken my competitiveness, would I catch as many fish or as big a fish as the other guys? I had taken my insecurity, would the new guys going on the trip be easy to get along with, would I like them, would they like me? Would the relationships with old friends "click" after not having seen them for a year or more? And, I had taken my "worry-wart" self along. Would my wife,Susie, and our friend, Diana, be alright on their trip to Maine? And, I took my burden of indispensability along. Would the church people be alright while I was away? Would the worship services go well without me? ... and on and on.

I don't understand how, but the incident of the eagles helped me realize what I was doing to myself by bringing my old "baggage" along. It was almost as if God were saying to me: "if I can referee an eagle fight, teach an eagle how to swim, and take care of the whole rest of creation, then I can take care of everything that you think are problems." I dropped my baggage and started to relax. I began to really enjoy the beauty and the friends around me, the water-falls, the sunsets, the towering trees, the tough granite precipices, the quiet in the boat on the water, the chatter of the guys at meal time, and the "hate-your-neighbor" card games.

The time away became a time of rest and inner cleansing. Once back home, I must have been like the person described in Matthew 12:43-45, who gets rid of spirits that afflict his life, cleans up, only to have more and worse of the same come later. It was as though I was becoming the same way that I had been before I had left on the fishing trip, tired and fretful, only worse. Another case of: "Wherever you go, there you are!" Then something surprising happened. The dog and I were out for our daily run when I saw a reminder of the startling and amazing ways that God works in his creation. A hawk flew over-head, clutching a snake in its talons. My impression has been that snakes usually prey on birds (especially getting their eggs and their young), but here, the bird was the successful hunter.

The hawk and the snake gave me a great deal to think about. Mostly I experienced it as another call to "wake-up" to the presence, power and beauty of God all around me, all around us. It is so easy for me, it is so easy for us, to become entangled in carrying our old "baggage" along, that we stay burdened down, tired, and so distracted that we miss seeing the miracles, great and small, that God is continually working in our lives and all around us.

We too easily forget that our embracing Christ in faith is the door to a totally new life, a life started from scratch, and filled with the love of God, with no room for all that old "baggage". God is all around us; God is in us.