I have just been on holiday to Cornwall. We stayed within five minutes of the sea and woke to the smell of fish and seaweed. One morning we walked up the steep side of the bay which gave us a magnificent bird’s eye view of the fishing fleet in the harbour.
Immediately below us was the dirty grey corrugated roof of a long shed. Cleverly camouflaged on this roof were three large nests along with seven equally well concealed skinny, grey, baby seagulls. Their parents seemed pretty indifferent to them.
A passing local woman showed us three seagull chicks who, a few days earlier, had fallen into the gap between the shed and the cliffside. Unable to climb out, let alone fly out, they seemed to be thriving, huddled together like a rather large ball of grey fluff. Did their mother care? Had she given up on them?
Parent birds protect their young This reminded me of the biblical image which has comforted me more than any other in my grief. It appears several times in various forms, especially in the psalms.
Have mercy on me, my God, for in you I take refuge. I will take refuge in the shadow of your wings until the disaster has passed.*
Jesus said, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem …how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing.”**
Here is the metaphor of God (the Father as well as the Son) as a mother bird providing protection for her young. Baby birds can snuggle close to the mother, confident that while there, they are safe. In the early months of grief, I returned again and again to this picture of God, imagining myself held protectively close to him, while the storm raged all around me.
Parent birds feed their young Species of birds vary in how they do this, including the cuckoo who lays her egg in the nest of another bird and then abandons it!
I recently heard on the radio about the amazing behaviour of bluetits. The female bluetit only lays her eggs once per season, as many as 14! She times the hatching of her eggs to the moment when nearby trees burst into bud, resulting in an explosion of caterpillars necessary to feed her chicks.
The bluetit chicks spend around three weeks in the nest before fledging. They more than quadruple in size, developing feathers and the wing muscles needed for survival outside the nest.
Feeding a nest full of voracious chicks is a full-time job for both parents. Each baby can demand 100 caterpillars per day…as many as 1400 caterpillars!! No wonder their search is restricted to a small area.
I have reflected on how, as I have sheltered under the shadow of the wing of Almighty God in my grief, I have been nourished in so many ways.
Parents prepare their chicks for flight Baby birds need to fly to survive. Guillemots are amongst the most extraordinary. One night, three weeks after hatching, guillemot chicks leap off the nest perched on the cliff edge. A greater supply of food is available in the sea. Although their wings have not developed, once they hit the waves, they can dive. Over the next 5-7 weeks it is mainly the father who then feeds the young.
As I sheltered under God’s wing, I knew that the time would come for me to emerge, when my courage and confidence would feel less wobbly, when I could hold up my head…and fly again. It has been gradual, thankfully nothing as dramatic as a guillemot. My preparation to ‘fly’ has been tailored to my needs and my personality. God is like:
‘an eagle that stirs up its nest and hovers over its young, that spreads its wings to catch them and carries them aloft.’***
This is a rich metaphor of comfort and compassion. It is also a source of hope for the future and the promise of something new.
PS: Later that day we walked back down the slope to the harbour. The grey ball of fluff in the gap had gone. But the number of baby seagulls had increased. Somehow, the survivors had scaled the wall of the shed!
*Psalm 57:1 **Matthew 23:37 *** Deuteronomy 32:11
This is my story and a work in progress. I wrote this on 18th July 2021.
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