Recently I was blessed to have a few hours of respite in the midst of a hectic business trip, and was able to spend some time seated on a quiet beach, listening to the pounding of the waves and watching the surf. My idea of heaven, actually. (Grin)
As I relaxed, I enjoyed watching the life around me. Of course, there were the ever-present gulls, shrieking and wheeling and turning overhead. There were tiny sandlappers who scooted along the edges of the waves, with their little legs moving so fast they blurred before my eyes. There were regal dolphins occasionally showing their fins further out.
My attention was captured by a pelican. Not a flock of pelicans, like I usually see, but one lone bird. This bird had character. Moxie. And he taught me some lessons, in spite of the fact that I don't speak pelican.
This particular pelican (let's call him Pelly for short) sat serenely bobbing on the waves, just beyond the breakers. Free from the hassle of dealing with the fiercer currents, the waves, and the foam, he seemed content to stay right where he was, as if he was well aware that was where he belonged.
Pelly didn't get all flustered when a flock of pelicans circled twice overhead. Even when they landed nearby, he simply looked them over and then got back to business . . . looking into the water below him. I guess he was looking for a small fish to swim by. The flock seemed nervous; they were constantly moving about, splashing, twittering amongst themselves. Their activity didn't seem to accomplish much, though, and soon they were ready to leave again. They seemed to call out to Pelly, squawking a couple of times, then rising into the air and heading down the coast. Pelly watched them quietly, and floated.
Pelly surprised me, then, by stretching out his massive wings and taking flight. His purposeful cadence lifted him high into the sunny sky, and then he pointed his long beak straight down toward the water, and unafraid, began to plummet. His wings closed around his body and he fell toward the waves even faster. I'd seen pelicans do this many times before, but it amazed me simply because he'd seemed so passive and quiet before. In seconds his beak pierced the water and his body went under the surface.
When he popped up, there was a silvery tail hanging from one side of his beak: success! He had accomplished his goal and had a nice breakfast!
I think that many of you will have caught on to what I'm about to say, but here are the lessons that Pelly taught me as I sat on the sand that day:
- God has a place for me. It's the perfect place for me, because it is in His will.
- Even if the circumstances around me are difficult, if I'm in His will, I can be content and quiet.
- I don't need to worry about what others are doing. I can rest, confident that I'm doing what He wants.
- When God gives me a job to do, I don't need to be afraid. If I do my job the way He planned, I will acccomplish the goal.
- God will provide for my every need, if I strive to stay in His will.
I think Pelly was pretty smart, don't you?