Kestrel My Father

Male Kestrel

Just went through — a roadblock

I had an unhappy conversation with my son about his atheism. The conversation racked me back into my unhappiness with God issues.
I was fussing about it, and getting stuck again with the essential question my son had asked: “How can there be a God when things are so horrible.” I also was uncomfortable with the “God the Father” and my parent.

Then tonight, my dad called. How was I, and how were the Bible lessons, and gave me a little sermon about the events before the Ascension and Jesus’ promise. It was so familiar, and he had it by heart. I told him a bit of my unhappiness with my son’s life and we went on. He told me about the gardening. He and his third wife had taken garden stuff to the market and made $60.

Then he dropped a surprise. Money they had invested from the estate had done well, and he wanted to help the two of us who had medical problems. Okay — that’s nice. But it doesn’t erase any of the other less happy examples of fatherhood.

So, I was still stuck thinking “God the Father” compared with my parent.

Then, as I was watching the bird nestcams from Cornell University labs, I got it.
Let me explain. There were five nests I was following: red-tailed hawk, great blue heron, kestrel, and then the peregrine here in Alberta and osprey in Calgary. I had been continually impressed by the constancy of care the bird parents gave. Just this week, I had seen the osprey cuddle her wee bare chicks with her knuckles.

I was just watching the last two kestrel babies finally with room in the nestbox and only the two of them after having grown up with five. The week before the first three chicks fledged, “4” and “5” had spent most of the time crushed up into corners with little access to food.

The parents did feed directly and did their best to ensure all were fed. I kept thinking that it would become better as they fledged. Now there were two, and the parents were doing fly-bys and food drops. And now, “4” was grabbing the food, and “5” was begging her to be fed.

Some of the chatterers also noticed and shared my concern.  Then the Father came in, with a large piece of food, and fed little “5”.
Something clicked. This was parenting. This was the model for God the Father. This dedication. This selflessness. This, that I had seen all of the birds show.