I have often made the statement: “It’s all about discipleship.” No matter what you look at or think about, I like to make a connection to discipleship.

Lately I’ve been reflecting on birds and how they fly. Perhaps you’ve noticed this as well. Even though I live in a city, we are right near a river and a stormwater pond, so many types of birds are present. And to me, they represent the many seasons of discipleship.

There are the birds of prey – hawks and eagles – soaring high in the sky. It all seems so effortless. They catch the thermal updrafts and appear to float in the air, rarely needing to move their wings. Their eyes watching the ground below, perhaps a mouse can be spotted and a meal enjoyed. Yet they appear at peace. 

We do enjoy seasons of this at times in our discipleship. Things seem to align, we experience a season of peace, God is close, relationships are good, the scriptures speak clearly. It is good.

At the other end are ducks. How exhausting to watch them fly. Have you noticed this? There is no space to glide and enjoy the flight, it is all work. Even to take off from the pond seems to take a long time – a lot of energy for so little gain. Yet somehow they make it to the next spot. And then to watch them land, gliding along the water. It’s as though they yell out “Phew, at last, we made it. Time to rest. Is everyone okay?” 

Our discipleship feels like this sometimes as well. Putting out a lot of energy – in prayer, in scripture, in service to others, in wrestling with touch questions – and it feels like such little has been gained. Was it even worth it? We land in exhaustion, wondering if we have the strength to even try to fly again. Perhaps you are there now?

How about hummingbirds? Their wings beat 10-80+times a second, depending on the species. Their heart rate is 1,200 beats a minute. Sounds exhausting? And yet they appear so peaceful. Flitting here and there. Gathering food. Hovering in place and then moving on. All very intentional, all very focussed. And they are extremely small, yet can also be quite aggressive, punching above their weight class. Yet with all of the energy expended, they appear to accomplish exactly what they were meant to accomplish, with no regrets. 

Discipleship can appear like this at times as well. We do put out a lot, yet it still feels in some ways as it should be, and we feel as though the results of our efforts match the energy expended. We are grateful.

And this is our discipleship is it not? One month we feel like a hawk, the next like a duck and then like a hummingbird. And on we could go. Herons, robins, blue jays, red-winged black birds.

Reflecting on this may appear strange to you, yet I like to allow whatever is around me to guide me into reflecting on my personal discipleship. It keeps me focussed and aware of the unique journey a relationship with Jesus is.

So, how about you? What in your life can allow you to deepen your walk with Jesus? Because remember, it’s all about discipleship. And discipleship is “for the birds.”

For the kingdom.

A few years ago, I heard a quote that apparently Dallas Willard stated at one time. I can’t confirm it as I can’t find the place I heard it, yet it does sound like something he would have said, just to get us thinking.

He said (not a direct quote, but close), “I wonder if you can have such an intimate relationship with Jesus, that when you die, you won’t even know about it for a few days.” Now let that sink in for a moment. Forget about the idea that time will no longer exist after death, and don’t over think all of the logistical aspects of the statement. Just let the idea sink in. You are so in touch with your deep and abiding relationship with Jesus, that death is simply passing over a very thin, almost non-existent line, and you continue the conversation you were just having with him. Perhaps he even lets you know that you are no longer in your earthly form, with a smile on his face.

I’ve thought about this statement a lot over the years, and I love it. It’s what I want to experience. As such, I’ve come up with a phrase to help me continue to reflect on this for my own life.

“Living life on earth while leaning against heaven.”

If you could, you would have one foot in each location.

Some of this thinking has been the reflection I’ve been enjoying from the Gospel of John 14-17. Jesus, in his earthly form, had this incredible relationship with the Father. He had an ongoing dialogue with the Father, knew exactly what he was to do because of this amazing relationship with the Father, and had a longing to be right back to enjoy the “glory we shared before the world began.”

In John 15, Jesus also encouraged us to be fully connected to the vine, as a branch that received all that it needed.

With this relationship with the Father, Jesus could walk straight to the cross, knowing that in a moment he would once again be with the Father. He even told the one thief that “today you will be with me in paradise.” Just lean over the line and you are now embracing the beauty of heaven.

What would it look like to live our lives like this? To be fully engaged in whatever we have to do here on earth, while all the while leaning against heaven and sensing the full beauty of this? To be talking with a friend while hearing the voice of the Spirit at the same time. And hearing the voice of the Spirit and being prompted to speak a word to a passing stranger.

To live in the reality that there is only a thin veil between now and eternity.

I want to live life this way. Not to be so far into my life here on earth that I can’t hear from heaven. To only walk by this thin veil once in a while, perhaps while attending a Sunday morning service, or reading my bible in the morning.

No, I want to live every moment, both in this world (I have no choice, I’m here) while at the same time leaning against heaven. Fully aware of both at the same time.

And perhaps, as Dallas Willard stated: “I wonder if you can have such an intimate relationship with Jesus, that when you die, you won’t even know about it for a few days.”

For the kingdom.