This is Not a Woodland

      Huffing and puffing I rushed the children to the, awaiting van. The school’s tardy bell was about to ring. As the van door shut, I watched them pull out onto 42^nd street to go the entire block’s distance to elementary school. I know, they could have walked, but life had become hectic, spinning out of control. Just to pack their lunches gave me a mental cramp. All the early morning devotional time was obliterated in 5 minutes of trying to wrangle my middle child out of bed. On these mornings I vowed to be smarter, more organized, more “with it!” As I walked back inside in my frumpy robe and disheveled hair I hurriedly got ready for work.  “Messy bun day,” I declared, as hair help would take much longer than the clock had allotted.

      As I pulled away from the house I spotted a hawk perched high in the Oak tree shading our driveway. Locking eyes with its piercing stare, I whispered, “This is not a woodland.”

      On that very busy morning, something started happening in my city neighborhood. As I say city, don’t picture urban projects and skyscrapers. Our city really should be categorized as a town, but even in this town I would claim it is not a woodland. Maybe you are wondering right now, what is a woodland? Because my second grader Elaina, had just finished her science unit on woodland creatures I knew I was dealing with animals from the back woods.

      Every day I took the highway exit to the bustling 42^nd street. On this same afternoon, I saw not one but two ground hogs happily popping their heads out of the unearthed tunnels they had burrowed on the roadside hill. “Kids,” I called out, “look! Groundhogs over there in the grass!” Three faces leaned toward the right side van window to see this natural phenomenon. “This is not a woodland,” I declared.

     A few weeks later, after I pulled on my running shoes, I opened the door to behold a full sized doe laying on my front lawn. As I gazed on Bambi’s mother, she looked like she was just taking a rest. “Kids,” I yelled, “Come here!” As fast little feet burst up the stairs, I looked again. Surprised I discovered a police officer standing over the doe and quickly putting the deer to rest. Lunging in front of the door, I tried to think quick. All three of their inquisitive faces studied me. “Fruit Snacks! Surprise!” I announced happily.”  They shouted “yeah!” as they change their course to head for the kitchen. With a sigh, I leaned against the closed door, “this is not a woodland.”

      One night coming home from an evening Walmart run, as I was about to turn off the exit ramp onto our street I saw two pairs of eyes reflected in the headlight beams. I slowed the van to study the creatures. “What do you think they are?” I asked. “Two kitties,” six-year-old Lydia replied.

     To our amazement, they were baby raccoons walking side by side. “Aww…”we all let out, as we coasted past. “This is a woodland!” we cheered as we made the mile loop to drive down the one-way exit ramp again. Their little bodies were still bobbing together in the headlights as they suddenly ran off into the prairie grass. Disappointed we concluded together dejectedly, “This is not a woodland after all.”

     I soon found a chipmunk living in our gutter spout.  Its mirthful little feet springing in and out of its home in the morning light. Inquisitively it would look around, flitting its fuzzy stripped tail before darting for the front yard. “Look, kids, at the chipmunk!” As the living room curtain spread and all three bodies piled on the overgrown chair. As their little faces made breath clouds on the window searching for the chipmunk, they whispered, “This is not a woodland.”

     In that season we enjoyed pointing out all the animals we noticed in our busy little neighborhood disturbing our frantic lives. How did the back woods collide with our little city street? In retrospect, I realize our heavenly Father tries to speak to us every day through his creation. 

  

“For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.” Romans 1:20

      Unfortunately, I am too busy to take notice most of the time. In the midst of spelling tests, food allergies, dance lessons, and casseroles I needed to be interrupted by wild beauty. My life had become too black and white. I think sometimes God tries to awaken us out of the doldrums with one of his wonders. Creation speaks of his love as more wild than tame, more heroic than pacifist. In his plan, He sent His very Son to earth to walk among us, to heal us, die for us, and ultimately to save us. That is not a picture of a God dressed in a white suit, but it is a portrait of a cherished Father with overalls and rolled up sleeves. A Papa that would pull us out of the dirt and wash all our wounds.  

     Present day, in the van loaded with teen/tweens I yielded the right of way to a pack of ten wild turkeys crossing the street. Hurriedly they crossed as if on a mission, red gobblers flapping in the breeze. I was tempted to say, “This is not a woodland!” but instead I just paused to thank God for his wonders.