13 Buzzards

My former National Guard chaplain posted a photo on social media the other day of 13 buzzards, ‘all q’ed up’, and roosting on the roof of his barn. (‘13’ and ‘buzzards.’ What a combo)!

And this rather incongruous photo reminded me of one of my late mother’s primary complaints about her ‘little neck of the woods.’ For you see, a few years before their respective deaths, my parents moved into a 55+ mobile home community; a few miles from their expansive home, and well- tended 1.5 acre property in the country.

Somewhere along the way, they and their fellow residents began to contend with a few unwelcome visitors. (Well, perhaps more than a few). The buzzards came in droves, and settled on their dock, in their back yard and on their roof; leaving copious piles of nasty, white, well, you know what in their wake. While this was bad enough, it seems a few homeowners along a nearby street were even more ‘put upon’ by the feathered fiends.

Beyond leaving their complimentary, well, you know what on rooves, cars, mail boxes and every other stationary object in the neighborhood, they began to systematically peck and claw water hoses, canvas awnings, pink plastic flamingos, and other miscellaneous objects into mincemeat. 

To say the residents on that end of my hometown were miffed is kin to saying the residents of Love Canal were disappointed. Of course, the matter was brought before the city commission; to no avail. State law prevents the harassment, poisoning, shooting (or otherwise killing) of buzzards, since these particular foul fowl (play on words) are nature’s primary janitors of Florida roadways; devouring all manner of putrifying carrion which falls victim to vehicular traffic.

My parents used to joke about the presence of buzzards on their lawn and roof, i.e., “They’re just waiting for us to die” (or) “You hear those pesky, black beasts above us? They’re coming to take us away!”

When I was in the 9^th grade, my favorite teacher of all time had the class memorize an old (and rather morbid) Irish prayer.

“From ghoulies and ghosties and long-legged beasties and things that go bump in the night, Good Lord, Deliver us.”

We live in a world of fear and uncertainty; where the proverbial buzzards so often come to roost. Not unlike those filthy fowl which cavorted about, and generally made a mess of my parent’s rooftop.

Nuclear weapons

Terrorism

Global Warming

Political Correctness

Atheism

Anarchy

Abortion

Hunger

Pollution

Murder

Mayhem

Doubt

Despair

(Pretty depressing, huh)?

13 buzzards, but only a random flock, which strut and fret their way across the stage we call ‘life’ pecking and clawing as they go, and leaving utter devastation in their wake.

There’s a scene in the movie, “Ghost,” starring Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore, in which a ‘flock’ of inky-black demons descend upon and retrieve the soul of an evil man. While I consider that movie a quality production, (and one which I watch from time to time) I think the producers spent all of a dollar twenty nine on the graphics for this particular scene. From my perspective, the ethereal beings depicted here are almost laughable, and their grunts and groans; more so.

However, those proverbial buzzards which come to roost in our own lives are not nearly as humorous, nor as momentary in appearance as the movie versions. They come to steal, kill and destroy.

Those demonic, black-hearted filthy fowl which dominate and overwhelm our lives hope to take us “farther than we want to go, keep us longer than we want to stay, and cost us more than we want to pay;” (and take pleasure in it).

The year was 1975, and as a novice minister I had been invited to speak at a nearby Alabama church; (to which I was ultimately ‘called’ as an associate pastor). It was my first of many subsequent sermons over the multiplied decades which would follow. I still remember the text.

“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” (2 Tim. 1:7)

As a ‘born-again’ Evangelical Christian these words have often come wafting back to me; like an echo from a bygone era. And yet, they are as new, and vibrant, and alive as they ever were. And in a season during which the vultures of doubt, difficulty, depression and despair peck and claw at our very souls, we are assured of God’s presence, and are heartened by the promises of His Word. 

And while the 13 (or more) random buzzards may come, and come yet again, the spiritual vultures of this world are impotent foes whose power is for a season, and whose threat is passing away.

Stay encouraged, my friend. For I have read the ‘last chapter’ of the Book, and those ugly-natured, foul-feathered birds of prey will be forever vanquished, and ultimately our Lord will ‘win out,’ (and Who has the power to keep us ‘til that day).

“For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time aren’t worthy to be compared to the glory that will be revealed in us.” (Romans 8:18)

“But this life, and the lust thereof is passing away, but he who does the will of the Lord endures forever.” (1^st John 2:17)


  By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary" Vol. 40. Copyright pending

If you wish to copy, share or save this blog, please include the credit line, above
**************
If you would like to see the titles and access hundreds of my blogs from 2015, do the following:  

Click on 2015 in the index to the right of this blog. When my December 31st blog, "The Shot Must Choose You" appears, click on the title. All my 2015 blog titles will come up in the index