On the day a wedding was scheduled for our church, I thought of the eggs. A killdeer had laid four of them dead centre in the gravel parking lot. A slight hollow sheltered them not at all, though their speckled coloring camouflaged them well.
Hoping to protect the little family, I collected four short wire fences from our backyard, the kind gardeners use to restrain ambitious young plants. Three minutes later I arrived at the nest site, thinking I'd place them around the eggs.
The killdeer held her position as I approached. "Don't worry," I said. "Just tryin' to help." In the far corner of the parking lot, her mate limped pathetically, dragging one wing. "Pick meeeeeeeeee! Pick meeeeeeeeee!"
I fussed with the wire so long Mama Killdeer decided I must be an enemy. She dashed off the nest several times, feigning an attack on my hands before darting back to her eggs.
But the wires wouldn't dig into the gravel. Back home, I stood wondering what else I could use to protect the parking lot squatters.
Killdeer are silly birds, I thought, suddenly cross at the erosion of my Saturday morning. What kind of stupid bird builds a nest in a parking lot? Spying some unused foundation bricks I loaded them into the car and set out again.
When I arrived, both adult birds flung themselves all over the parking lot, mewing. "Hey, you two. Relax. I'm here to help, honest." Wishing I could speak killdeer, I scoured the gravel lot until I found the all but invisible clutch of eggs.
I arranged the bricks, then made another trip back home to make a sign: KILLDEER NEST, GO KINDLY! When I returned to post it, the long-legged Mama had settled back on her eggs. Watching her, I chuckled. She looked so proud. Indomitable.
The wedding guests left sign, bricks, bird, and eggs intact. For several more weeks, the killdeer roosted, and by some miracle, the little family survived - almost intact. One day a child, disrespectful of nature's sacred ways, scared the mother bird off the nest, picked up one of the eggs and flung it. Both adult birds flew off, keening in outrage and loss. One of our grandchildren, who'd watched, horrified beyond words, mourned over the three remaining eggs. "Do mamas always come back to their babies, Mama?"
That one did.
One morning, the parking lot was empty of both killdeer and eggs. I worried until I learned that when killdeer chicks hatch, they immediately run for cover. The adults eat the eggs, leaving no leads for predators. Still, it was a silly place for that mother to park her treasure, even if it was church property.
Have you ever roosted in a parking lot? Plunked your God-given treasure in dumb places? Here's the amazing thing: God is there too. Standing by. Guarding you in ways you can't comprehend. And wanting to lead you out. Best listen.
