Like a Sitting…Turkey

By Robin Steinweg –

On a rare, unhurried drive, I approached a corn field lying fallow just outside of town. I saw birds sitting in the middle of the field. Bigger than crows. Got to be turkeys. The car drew closer. Wrong shape for turkeys. What in the world…

No, it can’t be.

Eagles??

I grew up admiring eagles. They nested in the bluffs east of my house and flew daily right overhead, anticipating the sun’s path west to the Wisconsin River bordering our property. Sometimes their vast wings pumped the wind. Other times they soared, motionless, carried on invisible currents to the fishy depths over which they reigned. They scanned the open waters below the dam from the trees on Lookout Island, just off our beach. I saw them as majestic but fearsome creatures. We never let our dog’s puppies wander, in fear one might become a side dish for a walleye entree.

But this debacle threatened a collapse of all I’d thought of them. I was so disturbed I stopped the car and rolled down the window.

“You are eagles. Eagles don’t sit on the ground. You’re making a spectacle of yourselves, and it’s not a pretty sight. You’re giving eagles a bad name. Get up and soar! Get off the ground, you look like turkeys!”

We won’t say what I looked like, on a deserted road talking to grounded eagles. But it got me thinking about my life. Am I sitting like a turkey in an abandoned field watching for grubs when I should be soaring on the currents of my Master’s love, publishing His glory?

QUOTE: Reuben Morgan, Hillsong Publishing, “Come live in me; all my life take over. Come breathe in me and I will rise on eagle’s wings.”

“…I will publish the name of the Lord: ascribe ye greatness unto our God” (Deuteronomy 32:3 KJV).

Today’s devotional is by Robin J. Steinweg. Robin’s life might be described using the game Twister: the colored dots are all occupied, limbs intertwine (hopefully not to the point of tangling), and you never know which dot the arrow will point to next, but it sure is fun getting there!

Big Mac, the Baby and the S.O.S.

By Robin Steinweg –

Big Mac had the look a dog gets when someone is about to hand him a juicy bit—he had a bead on it and every muscle and tendon trembled, waiting to spring. He might have been drooling. Mom glanced out the kitchen window and saw him planted by the clothesline. Curious, she followed his eyes up to a baby robin that had just made its debut flight. It teetered and clung to its perch. She feared a breeze might send it tumbling. Read more

Running Around Like a Chicken

By Robin Steinweg –

When I was five, we had a bachelor neighbor up the hill from where I played. He lived a frugal, somewhat rustic life. While my mom brought home packaged chicken for dinner, the neighbor brought live chickens. I didn’t know they were meant to be butchered for that night’s neighborhood picnic. Read more

Applaud the Builder

By Robin Steinweg –

“Ow!” I hop on one foot. I explore my stinging toes. I can feel the imprint the mystery object left when I stepped on it in the dark. Still hopping, I land on another. Read more

Goofy Birds!

By Robin J. Steinweg –

Goofy birds are at it again! Can’t they find a safer spot for a nest? Read more

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