Moulting: A Time for Renewal

As I was getting dressed the other morning I heard a preacher mention the eagle of Isaiah 40:31. He was talking about renewal, and the eagle as a prime example. I've loved eagles for many years so this caught my attention, but I had never heard this particular aspect before. This truly amazed me.

Do you know what eagles do? They go into a cave somewhere and knock their beaks off! Then they lose their feathers.

It was a freezing morning, made worse by the fact that my furnace had gone out the night before. So I was skipping around from the shower to the bureau, looking for my warmest wool socks and sweaters. All this seemed to exaggerate the images that danced in my jumpy brain. What DOES an eagle look like without its beautiful feathers or a beak? I wondered. Eeeeuuuw, how horrible! What a ghastly disfiguration of such a glorious creature! Another shiver sent me hobbling for my boots.

Can you imagine a creature that knocks off its own beak? Wow, this is much more than any moulting I’ve ever heard of. What an unusual process! I wonder how it happens. Do they fast until the new beak is strong? Isn’t nature interesting? Eventually, after all the agony and losses, they emerge like new! It may take years, but they are totally remade.

As a writer, teacher or speaker, I was momentarily stunned. When the Lord impresses such an image on my heart, I have to mull it over for hours or days. It’s apt to come back to me for months and years in fact.

Lord, what would that be compared to in my life? Is it about the need for silence? Is it like John the Baptist’s father who was struck mute for 9 months because he didn’t believe your word? Is it about a time for finding a cave to grieve and to be renewed from the inside out?

Doesn’t this image lend new meaning to the familiar verse, “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings as eagles.” I haven't ever really thought about the fact that those wings are made up of brand new feathers.

I looked it up on the web and read the following: “When eagles reach a certain old age, they go through a moulting process. They tear out their feathers one by one. Knock its talons and beak against rocks to break them and then they go to a solitary place in the mountain to wait for the sun's rays to heal it.”

"Feathers are what makes birds unique in the animal world. They are used for camouflage, advertising, waterproofing and of course without them a bird would be unable to fly.

Wings must be able to spread, fold, flap and twist. Flight feathers provide an unbroken surface which when flapped, acts as a resistance against the air allowing the bird to lift. The speed, angle of the wings and position of the flight feathers decides how fast or maneuverable the bird can be.

Feathers have a limited life as they wear out and need to be replaced. Old ones fall out and new ones grow in a process called moulting. All raptors moult, this normally occurs once a year, after the breeding season. Some birds such as eagles can take as long as three years to complete the moult, depending on the bird’s general condition."

I always figured that moulting was about the wings. But what about that beak? And how about those talons, so necessary to their survival?

This really made me think about the comparisons to my own life. This whole process of renewal seems to touch every aspect of life.


My own moulting…
On January 10th the kids and I all drove down to beautiful Wellfleet and we had a personal memorial for Frank. We have marked the first year without him. Even as I write those words, it feels oddly ill expressed. It feels so much longer--maybe five years since I’ve been with him… since life felt normal.

Yes, I feel like I have no talons or feathers. No balance, no strength to fly, nor ability to hunt. Even my beak has been altered. Ever since, I’ve been trying to emerge, but I have no lift.

At times, I have felt stronger. Surges of independence have brought me through a lot. I’ve traveled, taught, made my way back into an office and out into a community of study groups, church life and various classrooms. I even got an annual physical and dental checkup this month. (Good girl, huh, finally trying to take care of herself.) I’m taking vitamins, exercising and starting to force myself to get to bed by midnight.

Well, maybe one a.m.

Two for sure, and it’s lights out.

On a deeper level, almost verging on some psychological disorder, I’ve been going through everything, repossessing my own territory since the kids moved out. Organizing my whole life and household has been my aim. Is it a carry-over from Mom or is it the attempt to dominate my surroundings and control what I cannot change? Have I been duped into thinking that I can’t really write, I can’t move on, until I have everything in its place in perfect order? The War of Art brilliantly addresses this kind of dementia. Oh, I despise my own methods!

The entrapments of the mind are so cunning. In fact, funny thing, I read the Yellow Wallpaper tonight and related more than I’d care to admit to the progressions and digressions of a lonely heart. I also read a collection of essays by authors on writing from your life that really moved me. Especially Why I Write by a woman (Joan Didier?) who described how differently she views the world around her. How the peripheral consumes her. How she dabbled at the intellectual pursuits but never felt at home there. How she tried for years to fit into the collegiate mindset but took years to discover who she really was—a writer! I loved it. At last, I thought, here’s someone who truly understands my crazy brain. I should read that at the next writers’ group.

Yes, I’m going through a lot of motions and sometimes don’t feel much at home here anymore. Kinda like an eagle in a cave. Yes, that’s it exactly.

I toggle back and forth. Independence, strength and surges of minor victories are interspersed with the frightening reality. Sometimes I feel like I’m coming apart and am at great risk of destruction and homelessness. There’s no money coming in and yet the bills routinely flood my little mailbox. I don’t know how I’m going to survive. Eagles don’t belong in caves, do they. What am I doing here, really?

Yes, this image really fits me right now. I’ve found my cave and have been smacking off my beak.. My feathers have fallen off and the God of heaven is recreating me. There is frightful ugliness with a featherless creature. Awful, unsightly tears and raw sorrow.

Someday, maybe there will be the glorious season of taking flight again. Is there anything so breathtaking as a mighty eagle leaping from the mountain peaks and gracefully soaring over the heights?

I can’t wait!


My God, I need you Lord! I need your wisdom, direction and blessing. Lord, you made me different the first time around and now you are RE-making me. Show me your plan heavenly Father. Show me how to make my life work in the way that you intended!

Make 2007 the year of renewal and mounting up over obstacles for this bare and beakless eagle. Amen.