A Safe Place to Land
By Paul Snyder
On my campus walk one morning in late July I noticed a young bird flop out of the tree just ahead of me.Pushed by its mother, the time had come to learn the art of flight.My approach had been unnoticed, but as soon as the youngster crashed in the cushiony turf the mother caught sight of me.Instantly, she swooped down and stood tall in front of her young.The reaction was instinctual.She did not have to calculate and ponder her chances against the giant.It was an automatic thing she did—as natural as breathing.She knew the risk involved to herself, but especially to her young.As it turned out, I was not the kind of giant to dread.Neither hungry, nor tempted, little, feathered friends are not my idea of breakfast.
My wife and I love to see God’s imprint in nature. We especially like to recognize His ways by simply watching the seasons come and go in our garden. Evergreens, like the cypress and cedar, do not change much throughout the year. They are like bastions in the midst of the beautiful, yet less enduring flowers. By autumn the lily pads have given sanctuary to frogs, goldfish, dragonflies, and legions of tadpoles. In our garden hummingbirds find nectar, bees find pollen, and a nearby nest of doves drink from the pond. Even aphids, if we neglect our duties, will find nourishment in the roses. Everything in God’s cosmos has a place and a purpose. There is an interdependent harmony that goes on—a symphony of life. Under our proper care the garden is a safe sanctuary for flora and fauna to thrive.
Every autumn Educators see a new legion of youngsters begin to take flight—some of them crash on the cushioned turf of the Ecclesia campus. It is one of the hardest things for any sensible parent to do: to send their young into a land of giants. The staff and faculty at EC consider it an honor and a privilege to provide a safe place to land.