Migration

Whenever I tell people I’ve recently moved to the area from Florida I already know what their response will be. “You moved away from Florida? Why would you do that?” I’m pretty sure most people are picturing all of Florida as Key West or the Emerald Coast at least. They imagine lazy days spent napping in a hammock under a palm tree while enjoying the tropical breeze. I have to explain that I lived in North Central Florida, which is really just South Georgia, and that “real Florida” doesn’t begin until you get South of Gainesville, but that’s a story for another day. What they don’t envision is the high cost of living, “trying to reason with hurricane season,” mosquitoes that draw more blood than the Red Cross, and humidity so high you can swim on dry land.

As a native of the Tennessee Valley, my Summer vacations, and those of most of my friends, were spent along the Florida Gulf Coast, between Panama City Beach to the East and Pensacola to the West. On occasion we’d venture to L.A. (lower Alabama) and check out Gulf Shores, but most of my childhood trips were spent in the Florida panhandle. As an adult I have stood with my toes in the sand of beaches up and down the Atlantic Coast — from Nashua, New Hampshire to North Miami — and the Gulf of Mexico from South Florida to actual Mexico. I’ve walked the coastline of islands in the Caribbean Sea and I’ve stood on the shore of the Pacific Ocean, the Great Lakes, Costa Rica, Panama’s San Blas Islands, the Mosquito Coast of Honduras and Nicaragua — which, despite the name, is a lovely place, named for the Miskito Indians, not the insects. Having seen all of these places, I can tell you without hesitation, the Emerald Coast — affectionately known as “The Redneck Riviera” — is as beautiful as any beach on earth. And as a former resident of the Sunshine State I can assure you, just because you live in Florida, that doesn’t mean that your life is a nonstop vacation.

During our time in Florida we came to realize that while folks in the Tennessee Valley loved to vacation on the Florida beaches, residents of the Sunshine State often journeyed to the mountains of East Tennessee for their vacations. A lot of people around here question why we would move FROM Florida TO North Alabama, but our Florida friends who have visited this area understood completely. Yes this is home, but it also just so happens to be a beautiful place with beautiful people. 

This morning I had a pleasant surprise as several of those old friends from Florida unexpectedly stopped by for a visit. Don’t worry, they weren’t violating the “shelter in place orders” or ignoring social distancing. Those things don’t apply to these friends because they are immune to COVID-19. The old friends I’m referring to are actually a flock of birds known as cattle egrets.

Sitting at my desk, preparing the devotional for the day, I heard Levi growling and looked up to see the yard filled with a flock of cattle egrets. I was thrilled to see these old friends show up in an unexpected place, although Levi wasn’t as welcoming -- we are working on our manners and jealousy presently. While living in Florida these little birds provided a small taste of home for me, not because they are native to this region, but because I usually only saw them in pastures surrounding cattle. Over the last five years my favorite part of the forty minute drive from Lake City to Gainesville was the thousands of acres of pasture land filled with Black Angus beef, mmmmm…..,oops, wait, I meant to say cattle, Black Angus Cattle. Is it already lunchtime? 

One of the things I missed the most about home was sitting on the deck with my daddy watching the cows graze and the drive down to Gainesville gave me a little window back into those moments. It was in these vast vistas that I became familiar with the cattle egrets, so named because of their tendency to flock around — and sometimes on the backs of — cows. They love to feast on the parasitic insects attached to the cattle, making a sort of bovine buffet of bugs, creating a symbiotic relationship that is mutually beneficial to both species.

I can relate to these birds. I too love to be around cows, and I too am constantly on the look out for my next meal, and it is often my love of cows that takes care of that need too. But I feel a kinship with my feathered friends that goes beyond the belly. They showed up here in North Alabama this morning, but they “ain’t from around here.” They are just visiting, vacationing from Florida if you will. Their home is the warmer, more tropical climates further South, but when it gets warm enough they like to venture North for a little while. These little birds have an internal voice that tells them when it’s time for them to move. They just know when its time to head north and they know when its time to go home. For over twenty-five years I’ve been learning to listen to and trust this voice in my own heart.

I want to encourage you to learn to trust that voice as well…..with one very, very, vital condition: this voice must be speaking the words and wisdom of God. The prophet Jeremiah, and the wise king Solomon both cautioned us not to trust our own instincts alone. “O LORD, I know that the way of man is not in himself: it is not in man that walketh to direct his steps” (Jeremiah 10:23). “There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way to death” (Proverbs 16:25). This is why, “The steps of a man are established by the Lord, when he delights in his way; though he fall, he shall not be cast headlong, for the Lord upholds his hand. I have been young, and now am old, yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken or his children begging for bread” (Psalm 37:23-25). David once said, "Thy word have I hid in mine heart, that I might not sin against thee” (Psalm 119:11). You have to do this because, “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?” (Jeremiah 17:9). This inner voice, or conscience, cannot be trusted on its own. We must make sure it is molded, shaped, and informed by the will and wisdom of God from His word. 

There is a pretty simple test of whether or not this voice is our own selfish desires, or God’s will: is the voice in your head conflicting with or conforming to the Word of God? If the voice you hear is telling you to go ahead and do something that the Bible speaks against….that is your own selfish desires and not from God. If that voice is directing you to obey the Scriptures then you are on solid footing, but know this, sometimes it will tell you things you may not want to hear or do — like hold your tongue, give, be patient, repent, or forgive.

Sometimes our lives are so busy, and so hectic, that we don’t have time to listen to this voice, or we can’t hear it over all of the other background noise. Mercifully, many of those “other things” have been removed for now, leaving us with the stillness and quietness to hear it. “The Lord said, ‘Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.’ Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. Then a voice said to him, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’” (1 Kings 19:11-13). Those words were written during a time when Elijah hiding out alone in a cave, fearing for his life. We tend to think when God speaks it is always with a loud and booming voice, with smoke and fire and lighting and earthquakes — and sometimes He does — but most often He comes to us in the stillness and quietness of simple things. Things like the bread and wine of communion, where He says to us, “I gave my life for thee and you are welcome at my table.” Things like a prayer spoken in silence, where He says, “I’m listening child.” Things like a cup of cold water, where He tells us, “I will take care of you.” And sometimes, on mornings like today, it is through little white birds with caramel colored mohawks and beards.

This voice told me it was time to go home. I had migrated south — to borrow a phrase from Steinbeck, or better yet, Shakespeare — for “the winter of our discontent.” I say that, not because our time in Florida was defined by discontent, but because that was the state of my soul when I went there. The reasons for this discontent are long and myriad, and in time I will tell you all about that too, but suffice it to say, the warm and welcoming climate of my Floridian family of faith was exactly what I needed to weather the winter storm inside me. In time the seasons of my heart changed and I returned to my nest.

That voice has remained pretty loud and steady and consistent over the last few weeks. It’s pretty much been on a loop saying, “Let the peace of God rule in your heart…and be thankful” (Colossians 3:15). If you have ears, then listen (Matthew 11:15).