Everybody loves an eagle.
People gawk and awe over falcons. They stop and stare when a hawk gets spotted in the wild. Nobody wants to see a vulture.
The founding fathers selected an eagle as the U.S. national bird in 1782. A hundred years later, ecologists dinosaurified an entire class of these winged wonders. “Raptors,” we call them now; a dignified name highlighting the fierce, agile, and generally likable characteristics of these avian superstars.
Today, we raise money to rescue raptors and build protected habitats in their honor. Raptor sanctuaries are favorites of the rich and famous, a boojie mashup of all things nature plus philanthropy, the perfect place for fancy dinner parties and highfalutin fundraisers. To date, the list of recognized raptors include eagles, hawks, falcons, owls, and osprey. Vultures have yet to make the cut.
One year ago, I learned of a public speaker who selected spirit animals as part of his annual vision-casting process. The concept sounded totally strange initially but I was oddly intrigued. The gentleman gave cool examples like Mamba, and Puma. I was all in. At the time, a little, “year of the puma” sounded downright refreshing.
I ignorantly committed to the animal selection process but it proved much more difficult than anticipated. I desperately wanted to be an eagle last year but settled for a vulture instead. I think you’ll understand why.
I’m in my late 30s but have been bald since twenty-five. I wear a weak beard most days with more grey than brown and walk with a noticeable limp since one foot is a full inch shorter than the other. I played sports in college, sure, but struggle to stay is shape nowadays, and to make matters worse, seem to have misplaced my career identity as of late. I married so far out of my league that it’s hard to keep up and fumble daily trying to find my way in parenting 5 totally awesome but strong-willed kids. Life lately has been a far cry from taking names in total dive-bomb, eagle-like, raptor mode.
To be clear, my current state has not been for lack of effort. For years now I’ve been trying to do my best, actually to be THE BEST. I’m competitive. I work hard. I’m even strategic about it most days. I have an advanced degree and a well-paying job. But I’m tired. I’m worn out. I don’t know how much longer I can keep going.
Vultures stand around a lot, I decided to give that a try.
The past year has been one for the ages. Personal and spiritual growth has been up and to the right, like big time. I haven’t felt this healthy in years. All pride aside, there is so much that I have come to appreciate about the vulture, here are a few of the highlights:
DO LESS, BE MORE - It’s often said that people are human beings, not human doings. For the vulture, this couldn’t be more true. As a type-A, oldest child, enneagram 3 achievement addict, I have struggled my entire life to believe I’m loved by God and others for who I am, not what I do. I live for the dopamine rush of “completing stuff” and love the satisfaction that comes with each notch on the belt. I love growing, getting better, and to be honest, still relish in the feeling of being better than others more than I should.
At first I hated being a vulture. Vultures don’t attack or kill their prey. They wait. They eat road kill, carrion, and leftovers. Far from glamorous. Strange enough, it was in the waiting last year that I saw God’s faithfulness more than ever before. I still tried to hustle some and worked a few angles, but ultimately came up empty-handed in the end. The biggest blessing the last twelve months came in the form of a work promotion I didn’t even see coming. I can’t take credit for it but there it was. Boom. Provision. Paul’s promise that God is faithful to the thing he calls you to has been on clear display 24-7.1 I have no doubt God’s faithfulness has been there all along, learning to still long enough to appreciate it has been one of life’s greatest blessings.
INVEST IN RELATIONSHIPS - It’s rare to see a vulture alone. Vultures don’t ever fly in fancy formations but they do stick together. Whether scoping a tasty meal from the sky or simply sitting beside the road, these birds showcase what it looks like to not live life in isolation. Lately I’ve been learning to do the same. Historically, it’s been my own busyness and obsession with productivity that prevents building healthy relationships or fostering new ones. This year was different. I played with my kids and dated my wife more than any year prior. I made time to call friends on the phone, I listened more, and shared struggles with a close circle of men. My friendships and family are stronger as a result. For this I’m eternally grateful. John Mark Comer talks about margin in life as “the space between our load and our limits.”2 While load varies only slightly between two people base on personality and disposition, setting proper limits is the real catalyst, one we can control to create time for relationships in ways that really matter.
“REDEMPTION” MEANS NOTHING IS WASTED - I used to hate cooking sausage for breakfast. Sure, the meat tastes amazing but the clean-up is terrible. I swear, that course, black crust on the bottom of the pan, the stuff that sticks no matter how hard you scrub, it’s straight from the devil. Then I learned about deglazing. Whether it’s water or whiskey you prefer, the cool liquid reacting on the hot pan sears away every particle of crust and flavor, infusing it back into the meat. It’s totally insane. A super nasty, crusted pan that gets deglazed actually makes the meal better, not worse. I’m starting to wonder if God can use the crusty, nasty parts of my own life to do the same. Maybe I don’t need to fear failure, hardship, or disappointment as much as I have for all these years.
In Mathew 6, Jesus references birds in general, vultures included, as model citizens of what it means to live by faith in ANY life circumstance. “Look at the birds of the air,” he says, “they do now sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your Heavenly Father…(He) feeds them.”3
Modern day translation - in times of plenty, God is there. And in times of drought, He will STILL take care of you. Doing less and trusting more has helped me to see ways God is redeeming all areas of my life. In the moments where I want to hunt like an eagle, I’ve tried to wait instead. In the times when I want to take back control, I’ve tried letting go. Each time God has taken care of me and those I care about. And He’s batting 100%.
In being patient, and in taking a higher view, I am starting to see a bigger picture of the work God might be up to in the world around me. He is truly redeeming all thing and wasting nothing in the process. I’m still afraid of the future, sure, resistant to hard stuff, you bet. I’m still slightly terrified of things not going how I planned, but in every department I’m just a little bit less scared than I used to be. I guess I have the pesky vulture and God’s goodness to thank for that!
Welcome to the Vulture’s Nest.
2 Thes 5:24
From Sermon in Dec 2019, Bridgetown Church
Mattew 6:26 (NIV)