The plant usually hangs from the left hook. My unannounced presence caused the momma dove to make a dive bomb into the window and then u-turn and fly away from the house, leaving white streaks on the window marking her extreme stress from my surprise visit! As I lowered the plant to the porch floor I discovered two creamy colored eggs bundled in a perfectly built nest. The sight is always awesome and my thoughts immediately pondered the nano-ness of the builder, the quality of work, the quick fabrication (between waterings), and the dedication to family preparedness. A time of unexpected reason to worship the Creator.
I rotate the plant at each watering, so now the sitting fowl was perched facing away from the house. We would see her faithful attendance to her little home every time we left and came back. A few days later I tried to shoo her away to water her environment. She would not be dislocated until I threw a small pebble onto the plant beside her. After watering, the plant was rotated and placed back on the hook. I anticipated watching the action now from inside the house as the nest hung a half turn from where it had been before. We soon drove off for another appointment in our busy schedule.
As we pulled into the drive later, I was surprised to see the momma roosting in my fern, facing us, sitting as though she was on top of the nest, when the unprotected eggs lay in her nest, just on the other side of the greenery. How odd! Surely, she would know how to find her home just around the corner from where it had been before. Wouldn't instinct, smell, something lead her to the eggs she was incubating? Apparently not. As I approached she flew away and I changed the plant back to it's former orientation. The next time we looked she was back on the nest and all seemed fine. Visitors came by shortly after that, scaring her away and she never returned. Her home and future offspring abandoned; the embryos most likely died during her prolonged absence.
This is a bit like a trick I once played on my brother. Someone had said, if you serve hot water in a black mug, the recipient won't realize the water isn't coffee. Sure enough, my brother had drunk at least half the water before I told him it wasn't coffee. I have serious doubts whether someone could fool me when it comes to a cup of joe. I like mine strong and hearty and there is no way hot water could be a stand in for the real thing and me not notice. But...given the circumstances...who knows?
We don't see the change happen. Everything looks the same, feels the same, and we carry on as usual.
What's the point here, Father? Anything I can make a spiritual connection to? Habits die hard? We get set in our ways and miss moving with the changes you bring? Pretty serious consequences if you make the comparison to momma dove. I want to move with you, Abba. Even if it means a time of searching for where you are calling me to be. May I not assume my job is over, when it ends in one place, and you have decided to carry on my mission in a different setting. I don't want to pretend I'm hatching something for you when in reality it is no longer there.
Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit.