Two months of reprieve from Orlando steam and sweat.

My Rocky Mountain High has begun.

I love the chance to switch things up a bit. The opportunity to move to Ft. Collins, Colorado for our summer assignment for two months is a gift. We’ve been doing this for years–before we were parents. Hauling the kids out here and giving them the chance to experience significant change for a time has encouraged flexibility in all of them.

That and a deep love for hiking.

Landing in Denver brought back years of memories. People we’ve gotten to know, opportunities for growth, chances to serve. Heck, I had a baby out here because I didn’t want miss anything. I’d neglected to remind John that my due date was approaching. Another story.

Driving up to Ft. Collins, the darkness hid the mountains. They were there in the freshness of the higher elevation and cooler temperatures.

I was exhausted. I didn’t want to go to bed. I knew the two hour time difference would have me waking earlier than usual.

I was up before the sun rose. Hidden birds sang a welcome. The air was brisk. Standing outside, shivering, the sky began to lighten, and more birds joined in the chorus.

Then there was the dissonance.

A honking, squawking noise that didn’t blend with anything else.

Canadian geese. Lots of them.

There were families of geese, with small goslings trailing after their parents. Wildly waddling to keep up.

I walked further to get a closer look.

What I hadn’t seen in the dark was now quite apparent in the rising sun. Goose poop everywhere.

Especially on the sidewalk.

Geese have no problems with regularity.

The sidewalk had become their latrine. Globs of poo were everywhere. I had to be diligent to watch where I was going–barefoot–so as not to step in it.

What do they eat?

It was quite a challenge to admire my surroundings or watch a sunrise when I was being careful to not walk where I’d regret. So I stood still and watched.

A multitude of necks craned to watch me. When I took a step closer, the squawking and hissing began.

I wasn’t going any closer.

Walking to our meeting, everyone was doing the poop avoidance two-step.

That’s life. You find something or someone that appeals to you. Captivates your imagination in a way you hadn’t expected. You move toward it, wanting it to be what you hope.

The closer you get–the more the light exposes it–the clearer the mess around it becomes. Nothing is ever as perfect as we imagine.

This world can’t provide perfect. It can’t meet our expectations. It can’t satisfy what our hearts long for.

Only Jesus can do that.

Life isn’t a latrine. It’s a place for us to recognize what’s real and what isn’t, to grow in truth and become better for the experience. We all have our messes. Our personal latrine moments where we don’t show up well.

It’s why Jesus came to redeem us. To deal with the mess and ugliness we can’t.

I’m not that consistent with cleaning my bathrooms.

 

 

 

 

 

 

4 responses »

  1. Only Dayle Rogers can find spiritual depth in goose poo!! Bravo!

  2. jddoug17 says:

    Oh Dayle! You are amazing. And yes, goose poop is so awful!

    • daylerogers says:

      You, my friend, amaze me! You’re so kind and gracious to read and comment on my stuff. I so appreciate your commitment to me and all the other Cru writers. You have to know how much you inspire me. How much you encourage me with your words and how you’ve pursued what God has called you to do. I’m so grateful that you’re my friend.

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