Some Elephants Weren’t Made To Fly

Immediately after I posted my last entry, one I felt was spiritually powerful, meaningful and potentially life-changing, I crashed hard.

A bad case of spiritual blahs, apathy, and depression captured my mind. Not that I didn’t believe in God anymore, it’s just that I didn’t care.

I’ve noticed this phenomena before. Back when I taught adult Bible lessons, after teaching one I thought was good, my own spiritual life would go to pot. Maybe it’s a natural backlash thing, like the way you feel the morning after final exams.

I hope my admitting this will not spoil whatever good readers might have found in my testimony, but I feel that being honest about spiritual doldrums is a sort of backhanded testimony too. I don’t want to misrepresent what Jesus is in my own life—and sometimes He just doesn’t count for much, except as low-key, annoying, background noise. I’m not quoting Billy Graham here.

Compounding my blahs, I’ve been transcribing my friend Barbara White’s hand-written prayer diaries for future publication and she’s one of those Christians who often effervesces with praise, joy, singing, positive outlook, deep wisdom, love of God, and all that jazz.

In one place she mentions that verse from Isaiah which says, “They that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint”.

Good for the eagles.

Great for them to soar.

But, as Ginny pointed out last night when we talked about such things, “Not all birds were made to fly, John. And, let’s face it, you’re shaped a little bit more like a penguin than an eagle”.

Barbara enjoys a close personal relationship with the Lord. Her diaries talk about that a lot.

Ginny’s reading a novel containing much theology, and she questions the author’s view of God; she feels his view limits God. “I don’t think much about my relationship with God,” she said. “It’s just always there”.

My own relationship with God is like my relationship with the President of the United States. He lives in the Whitehouse; I live here. I acknowledge his authority and observe his laws (more or less). I’m one of his citizens; but he sees me as one voter in the polls. He bails out other people with advances—none of which get to me down here where I live.

The President and I get along fine.

Our relationship is just what it ought to be.

I’m loyal to him. He does what he see as best for all concerned including me. And we’d defend each other in a fight. But the President and I are not exactly fishing buddies.

Nothing wrong with that.

Some birds weren’t made to fly.

Some of us see things differently.

Ginny reminded me of that poem about the blind men trying to describe an elephant. One walked into its side and said an elephant is like a wall. Another felt the sharp tusk and said an elephant is like a spear. The blind man who touched the leg, said it was like a tree. The one on the trunk said it was a snake. And the one holding the tail said an elephant is like a rope.

Wrong analogy to use with me when I’m depressed in the blahs.

Today, I feel that I’m the blind man who stands directly underneath the elephant’s tail…

And we all know what happens there.

But don’t let my blah attitude today keep you from Jesus, perhaps God intends for you to be one of His eagles and soar.

Have a good flight.

We penguins love to watch.

You’re beautiful in the air.