Doves

Our morning doves have returned! Their call who-WAH-who, who-who greets me in the morning and annoys me at night. I was worried that they wouldn't return because of what happened last year. They had nested on our propane tanks. When the tanks were removed the nest was disturbed. I didn't think they would return, after all their eggs had been destroyed. I guess I could pontificate about resilience in the animal kingdom or God's peace suviving the odds. The doves simply represent that tried and true classic, the hope of spring.
Their feathers are a silver grey that matches the sky or our mood on those overcast days that threaten rain, snow or fog. Their grace reflect gentle breezes that whisper warm promises. Their dedication to rebuilding a home is similar to the perseverance of green that relentlessly creeps the slopes of the horizon. Their playful hopping and teasing games break winter's silence with the joy of new creation.
Can you avoid the God in this metaphor? Physically this time of year is difficult. My body doesn't handle weather changes well. So I look forward to any sign that God is still creating in this world, that promises are still being kept. I hear talk that the end is near but obviously it is not today. I can get up and praise God regardless of the storms in my life. This is what Paul is talking about in IICorinthians. This is resurrection talk. In the midst of lenten atonement and connecting to God through sacrifice, my eyes are on the prize, Easter Sunday. I guess the dove of peace is not just for baptism anymore. These doves are for resurrection. Can you hear their call? WHO-WAH-WHO, who-who They're calling you too!