Daily Photo Parable

Photo and Commentary ©2023 by Maylan Schurch
Sabbath, September 16, 2023

This past Wednesday at a traffic light I saw this wonderful license plate. I’ve lived in the Puget Sound area since 1982, and have listened to many a Seattle Mariners game.

What’s so heart-tugging about this plate is all that it contains. It sports the team colors and the familiar “compass” logo. It even trumpets “My Oh My,” one of now-deceased announcer Dave Niehaus’ trademark exclamations when the team made an exciting play.

But best of all is the “B-LIEVE” lettering. Year after year after year the team has tantalized its fans with the hope that this might be The Year, but according to their Wikipedia entry, “As of 2022, the franchise has finished with a losing record in 30 of 46 seasons. The Mariners are the only active MLB franchise never to have appeared in the World Series, and currently hold the longest active World Series appearance drought in MLB.”

This year, however, the hope is much stronger than usual. As I’m writing this, they’ve won 81 games and lost 65, and they’re third place in the American League West. And whoever owns the car on which the plate is proudly bolted is probably “b-lieving” with all his or her heart.

The Bible has a lot to say about hope, hope which doesn’t depend on human pitching or hitting but in a believable God. Check out some of Scripture’s quotes at this link:

https://www.bibleinfo.com/en/topics/hope

Photo and Commentary ©2023 by Maylan Schurch
Friday, September 15, 2023

Thursday morning I drove past this imposing gate leading into a rather mysterious compound. There’s a sign (not in this photo) which says it’s an “Army Reserve Center.” It seems to be some kind of training area, with the white buildings on the left serving as either barracks or classrooms.

But what struck me Thursday (and tantalized me to stop to take this photo) are the two signs which starkly say “NO.”

“NO” what? No parking? No trespassing? No entry? Even enlarging one of the signs doesn’t give much more info:

See what I mean? Aside from asserting the ownership of the “U.S.,” I am told nothing except “No.” I have a feeling that the sign may once have contained more words, but the sun has evidently faded them.

Have you ever had the feeling that when everything else fades away, Christianity seems basically a “No” religion, a “Don’t” religion? After all, every one of the Ten Commandments warns us away from this or that sin.

But isn’t that what we do with our kids? Walk anywhere with a toddler, and you can’t go ten yards without a “No” in some form. Teach your teen to drive, and those “No’s” sometimes emerge as frantic bellows.

Because safety is the key. Not getting killed is the key. Which is exactly God’s point in warning us emphatically against what could destroy us.

For more about God’s law—including some very good news—click the link just below:

https://www.bibleinfo.com/en/topics/law-god

Photo and Commentary (c)2023 by Russell Jurgensen
Thursday, September14, 2023

This squirrel at Glacier National Park really wanted our food, which made it challenging to eat lunch while not setting any food down. We didn’t feed it, so it tried its luck with the next group once we left.

The squirrel’s courage at coming right into our group is kind of inspiring since it is such a small critter among much bigger people. It reminds me of a Bible text.

There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.
1 John 4:18

When I’m feeling fearful, I sometimes ponder this text. What is it about love that should make me feel more peace. I think it partly has to do with understanding God’s love for us. On the other hand, it may have something to do with how much I love others.

As we ponder God’s love, let’s be fearless like this squirrel as we approach God and try to understand his principles for us.

Photo and Commentary ©2023 by Darren Milam
Wednesday, September 13, 2023

Do you ever feel like you are overwhelmed, like you’ve just taken on too much? I know I have, and it’s easy to do. There are times when we feel like we should/can continue to pile on more activities, or more responsibilities. In some ways, our human nature (on this sinful planet) pushes us to do more – on our own. It can be viewed as a sign of weakness to ask for help. If that’s the case, doing it all ourselves “feels” like it’s the correct thing to do. In fact, it is not.

Take this pelican for example. I took these pictures a few years back on the Santa Monica pier, in southern California. This guy was determined to swallow this fish. For whatever reason, the fish was not cooperating. For several minutes, he struggled to get his lunch down the hatch. As I snapped the images, I felt like I should go over and help him out, but I knew if I were to get too close, the assumption would be made that I was after his prized morsel. Instead, he continued to struggle. “I’ll do it myself!” I could almost hear him say.

Do we ever do that? Do we get stuck in our ways, not willing to ask for assistance? As fellow believers, we know asking God and “letting go” are some of the best decisions we can make. We may not always start with those decisions, but we certainly should end up there. I’ll speak from experience – it can be difficult at times, as it can be a humbling experience.,

From scripture we can find a reason to ensure we are asking for that needed help.

James 1: 17 and 18 (NKJV)

“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning. Of His own will He brought us forth by the word of truth, that we might be a kind of firstfruits of His creatures.”

If the good and perfect gifts/outcomes come from God, what are we producing without that assistance? If asking for help provides the right outcome, we can’t go wrong.

Back to our friend on the Santa Monica pier – he may not have had the ability to think, or vocalize, a cry for help. He may not have the mental capacity to see that as an option. However, we do. We were given a brain large enough to process what the correct path is. We were given the ability to speak and ask for what is needed. Most of all, we were given the privilege to have a direct connection with our Creator. We have no excuse. We may not be attempting to swallow a whole fish, but we know when we are trying to do everything on our own. Take the time to ask God for the help He wants to provide.

Photo and Commentary ©2023 by Robert Howson
Tuesday, September 12, 2023

Identity is an important part of who we are. Child psychologists talk a lot about helping your child to have a positive self-image and there is undoubtedly good reason for this. Have you ever wondered how Leah must have felt being described as the sister who had the “weak eyes”? I know, weak has been interpreted as gentle, tender, soft, and other less offensive terms, but I suspect it was not intended to be complementary. Probably the CEV comes close when they render it, “her eyes didn’t sparkle”. (Genesis 29:17)

Maybe it’s my imagination but I put the saltators into the same group as Leah. The genus is a group of with thick bills, strong legs and feet, and relatively long tails which live in Central and South America. Prior to the 21st century when DNA studies became popular, they were placed in the cardinal family, but more recently have been assigned a place alongside the tanagers. In general, they are not particularly eye-catching, unlike some of the cardinals and the gorgeous tanagers. Even though the name saltator comes from Latin and means dancer, that’s of no particular help. The Buff-throated Saltator is just one of this group and can be found in the humid lowlands foraging in forests and gardens from southeastern Mexico to northeastern Brazil.

From all appearances it doesn’t look like this saltator is in the least bit affected by its lack of glitter. It continues to feed on seeds and buds, filling well the role to which it was assigned—not too different from the role assigned to one of Leah’s offspring. One day the Lion of the Tribe of Judah will receive the full glory He deserves. Then, we can all dance for joy.

Photo and Commentary ©2023 by Cheryl Boardman
Monday, September 11, 2023

My sister called me over to look at this great blue heron as we were walking around a pond. It was looking intently into the water and I’m sure it was looking for its next meal. Unfortunately, we didn’t have time to wait to see what it caught, but I’ve seen them eat fish and frogs and voles at different times.

All creatures look to you
to give them their food at the proper time.
When you give it to them,
they gather it up;
when you open your hand,
they are satisfied with good things.
When you hide your face,
they are terrified;
when you take away their breath,
they die and return to the dust.
When you send your Spirit,
they are created,
and you renew the face of the ground.
Psalm 104:27-30 (NIV)

Photo and Commentary ©2023 by Shelley Schurch
Sunday, September 10, 2023

My sister does not like birds. Apparently this stems from a time long ago when she involuntarily had to watch part or all of Alfred Hitchcock’s horror movie, “The Birds.”

I, however, steer clear of such anxiety-producing productions and am very fond of birds. No matter where we’ve lived, our morning walks have always been brightened by birds. (Although the day a pheasant shot straight up in the air from the ditch close beside me, I was more frightened than brightened.)

Many years ago our morning walks included a stretch of road where a large flock of pigeons treated us every day to an aerobatic display. They would soar high in the sky before us, than turn over in unison on some silent cue, switching from gray to bright white as they swirled. It was a magnificent sight that made my heart soar with them and laugh with delight, every time.

Our landlord told us they were roller pigeons, and belonged to a family that lived down the road. He pointed out the house, so that Christmas we packaged up some cookies and ventured down the road and up to their house, to thank them for treating the neighborhood to such wonderful birds. Their house and fence were all festive with colored lights, but they didn’t answer the door. We hadn’t prepared a note, so we trudged back home with our cookies, and continued to enjoy their pigeons.

Then one morning the birds were absent. We missed them. The next morning they were again no-shows. A third morning, they were still missing and I was mournful. I don’t remember how many days dragged by.

One morning I was fussing out loud as we walked down that stretch of the road. Where were the birds? Why had they disappeared? What happened? Would we ever see them again?

Then I stopped, mid-fuss, as two small feathers floated down from the sky and landed at my feet. I stared at them, then looked up at a very tall tree beside the road. At least one of “my” birds must be up there somewhere . . .

And then I had to laugh. Was God also laughing? Was He fed up with my grumbling, and sending me a couple of feathers to let me know He was still around, invisible but real?

The feathers weren’t talking, so I don’t know. But I do know that I picked up those two small feathers and kept them. (I’m sure they’re safe and sound, deep within some box in our garage.)

I kept them because they remind me that sometimes I can’t see God actively at work to settle all my problems, heal all my friends, and immediately point out the exact choices I should make. He sometimes seems missing, and silent. But as I keep talking to Him, it’s as if He sends me a few feathers of reminders that He’s still here with me, still loving me, still caring for me and mine.

When I saw the much larger, and solitary, feather this week, it brought back memories of my long-ago feathers, and I immediately wanted to share the story with you. I took this photo rather than rummage in the garage.

How many of the Psalms cry out for God to show up and do something! Take action – the more dramatic, the better! Although these Psalms may express deep sorrow, or fear, or anguish, they most often turn, as our roller pigeons turned, and conclude with a confident statement of trust that God would surely come through for them.

Psalm 13 voices even more questions than I asked when my pigeons failed to show up, but hang on for its conclusion:

How long, LORD? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
Look on me and answer, LORD my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death,
and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,”
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing the LORD’s praise,
for he has been good to me.

And my pigeons? They reappeared and resumed their aerobatic displays. I rejoiced, and did not take their presence for granted.

As we move out into this brand-new week, we may not always see His face, but we can look for His feathers. Psalm 91:4 reassures us that, “He shall cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you shall take refuge.”