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An article in National Geographic several years ago provided a penetrating
picture of God's wings.
After a forest fire in Yellowstone National Park, forest rangers began their trek up a
mountain to assess the inferno's damage. One ranger found a bird literally petrified in
ashes, perched statuesquely on the ground at the base of a tree. Somewhat sickened by
the eerie sight, he knocked over the bird with a stick. When he gently struck it, three
tiny chicks scurried from under their dead mother's wings.
The loving mother, keenly aware of impending disaster, had carried her offspring to the
base of the tree and had gathered them under her wings, instinctively knowing that the
toxic smoke would rise.
She could have flown to safety but refused to abandon her babies. When the blaze had
arrived and the heat had scorched her small body, the mother had remained steadfast. Because
she had been willing to die, those under the cover of her wings would live.
"…under his wings you shall take refuge." Ps 91:4
"He died for us, that all of us, whether awake or asleep, together might live with him." 1Thes 5:10
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