The Geese on Goat Island

On the second anniversary of Frank's death last month I headed down to Newport to spend some time alone. First stop after crossing those bridges was a place that Frank and I used to take the puppies. I headed to what I call the great wall on Goat Island.

To my surprise, a flock of about 100 Canadian geese were grazing on the grass by the beautiful Del Mer resort where people celebrate weddings. The sky was beautiful and I started snapping pictures right away, imagining God’s eye upon me through the golden clouds. Then I got lost in the spectacle before me…

At first, all the geese looked identical, with their sleek black heads and plump and downy bodies. Beautiful creatures! How do you tell one from another I mused? I enjoyed walking amongst them, trying not to disturb them much, and taking photos against the beautiful but obscured sun in the harbor. Something about that setting reminded me of Psalm 23 with the Lord as shepherd of the flock.

After about fifteen minutes, my fingers getting numb from the cold wind, I noticed that there was one big goose along the outer fringes of the flock who was limping badly, and I was mesmerized. To be honest, he was the only one I saw with any physical deformity. How sad to watch him painfully lifting that right leg as they shuffled constantly around the grassy field, eyeing me with mistrust.

"Oh, my poor buddy, you have a hurt leg," I cooed sympathetically. "Take it easy, take your time, I won’t hurt you." Then I remembered something I’d heard a long time ago. Geese mate for life and if one is wounded or sick the spouse will remain with them when the flock flies south, even if it means death. "Which one is your sweetheart?" I searched to see if one was sticking closer to him, but there didn’t seem to be.

"Oh, are you all alone too?" And then, watching this poor limping, brave creature made me want to cry my eyes out. The pain of losing Frank flooded right out to the surface again. In that instant I knew, I was just like that limping goose.

My mind raced back to another beach in the spring of 06. It was about three weeks after Frank's funeral and I was walking along the shores of Falmouth Heights. “Oh Lord,” I cried, “I feel like you’ve cut off my left leg!” I felt like a cripple, out of balance and unable to make even the simplest decisions alone.

“And where is that leg now?” the Lord asked gently.

“I guess it’s in heaven with you.” I thought of Frank and wondered what he was doing and seeing at that very moment.

“Then you’re half way home,” he said. “You’re in the spring-step to heaven.”

Those words buoyed my aching soul. It seemed the Lord had given me a higher perspective on the pain. I should raise my focus to the skyline.
But now, with a shot of raw awareness I thought, here it is two years later, and I’m still limping heavenward. Oh God! I still feel the shooting pain that screams through my heart.

Looking at this limping goose I said, "I know just what you feel like my friend." There he was, surrounded by this huge flock of birds, all strutting around and grazing happily. A perfect way to describe how it feels after church, for example, when everyone stands up to help each other with their coats and go home, or go out to eat somewhere… They are oblivious to the shooting pain that you feel with every single step. Only the limping goose truly knows the effort it takes to keep up, or that extra little dose of weariness at the end of the day. "None of the others know what you’re dealing with, do they?"

"But I do," the Lord assured my heart. I praise the God of wonders, beyond the galaxies, the God who sees me! The God who understands every inner thought and every inch we tread in this frozen earthly pasture.
Before long, a few of them hopped up on the wall and eyed the water in the harbor. Then, in groups of six to eight, they started flying off to the south along the water’s edge and out of my view. I watched the whole scene unfold until yes, even my crippled friend was able to take flight. It seemed he was hurting as they waited for him to clamber up to the concrete wall. But when the time came, he soared with the best of them, right off into the setting sun.

As I watched them leave, I realized that flying must be a lot less painful than hobbling around on the ground. And there it was—another aha moment! When we take to the skies, rising up on invisible currents of God’s grace, all the obstacles of this earth fall away.

Oh Jesus, my Heavenly Father, lift me up on wings of eagles. Guide me to your green pastures and help me to stay on course for the paths that you have outlined for me. Teach me in this painful season, how to walk, how to take off and fly again, and how to keep fighting the good fight of faith. By your grace, let me be as brave and beautiful as that striking black and silver goose against the sunlit sky today.


“Since then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things…” Colossians 3:1

“They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength;
They shall mount up with wings as eagles.” Isaiah 40:31