Low Flying Geese

By Phil Scovell

It is mid March today, I was taking out some trash and just as I started to tilt my office trash barrel into the larger city barrel, I heard them and froze. Geese from somewhere were coming and they were lower than usual and closer this time. I waited. Their honking echoed all around me between the buildings and vehicles parked on the property. "Where were they?" I wondered. My son's house and large garage is on the back of what once was one long piece of land in west Denver.

According to the elderly woman who used to live next-door, in 1950, the 4-lane road out in front of my home, which runs north and south across most of Denver, was nothing but dirt. Although I live in the city and county of Denver, believe it or not, there is a well dug on my property. Also according to the same elderly neighbor, across the dirt road was nothing but wheat fields back in the early fifties. Now, of course, there is nothing but houses and buildings; including a church I used to attend many years ago as a Baptist. Across the same street is another city called Lakewood, Colorado. Amazingly enough, although I have lived in this house since September 1 of 1983, I am the second owner. The first owner also built the house in which I now live. I'm not even a native Coloradoian. My home is Des Moines, Iowa. This house, therefore, was being built, one day at a time, by one man, and his neighbor, two years before I was born.

Living deep within the city as I am, I miss hearing the birds that are further out into the countryside but occasionally, a flock of ducks, or geese, fly over, heading generally north or south. Even if I'm indoors, if I hear them coming, I always stop and listen for as long as I can hear them passing. Today was no different. A simple, mundane task, of dumping my trash into the city barrel that would be picked up in a few days, caused me a few seconds of Godly appreciation. Although this time of year is still considered winter in Denver, and since I've lived in Colorado from September of 1972, I've seen snow in late May. Regardless, even in mid winter, we have 50 and 55 degree days of warm sunshine and unless you step into a shady spot, it feels like summer. Today was such a day. The 4-lane road in front of our house, perhaps 75 feet or more from where I was standing, even at that time of day is quite busy and noisy but I still heard the approaching geese. "Here they come," I said out loud but I was still unable to tell from which direction but I could tell this pass would be close. It was indeed close. They passed nearly over my son's house in our backyard less than 50 feet away. They were low flying and honking their communications to each other rhythmically and as they passed perhaps no more than 100 feet down range from where I stood, I called up to them and said hello a couple of times. Soon, far too soon, they were passing where I stood in our driveway and I called goodbye to them as they continued their trek to some unknown southerly destination. Their honking was so precise and perfectly formed; no one could doubt they were calling out direction and encouragement to each other. I knew they were praising God, too. Think about it. If I could hear them and they attracted my attention, forcing me to stop what I was doing just to hear them, what do you think God was doing at that same time? I wish the church were more like geese in the manner of equality, friendship, togetherness, unity, and direction of awareness. I wish the church praised the name of the Creator, and His Son, too, through the ministry of the Holy Spirit but unfortunately, the interest, over many years of even my own life of nearly 6 decades, has shifted from the individual to the many; the one verses the most. How sad God must be. The good news is, on the other hand, one day, and it often seems like very soon, He is coming back for a church without spot or wrinkle. If that is true, a lot of changes are going to be made within the body of His Believers before that day when we all will pass into glory as geese sharing their camaraderie by doing nothing more natural to them than flying and honking their identity in unison in God's Kingdom. Today I wished I could have been one of them just for a few moments.

Safe Place Fellowship International

Phil Scovell

Denver, Colorado USA

Mountain Time Zone