I pulled into my driveway last week during the beautiful snow globe snow to find two mourning doves huddling together under a table on my patio. The table has a rolled up carpet left by some workers in my apartment and the doves found some warmth and shelter there. I had been watching these mourning doves work very hard in the previous week to build a nest in the scrubby tree next to my sidewalk. Each day, they were scrounging in the yard for sticks, twigs, grass, dog hair, anything that would build a lovely nest for their coming offspring. Mourning doves tend to move a bit slower and their sweet and sad call makes them a very tender and endearing presence. I felt close to these wild birds and I didn’t want the birds to fly away and lose their precious shelter, but I couldn’t sit in my car all day. So, loss of shelter it was.
While I was waiting for a few minutes in my car, I began thinking about more of God’s creatures finding precarious shelter all over the world. Animals find shelter in trees and shrubs and in human-made structures that seem safe, even if risky. Human refugees find shelter in overloaded boats, along roadsides, in abandoned structures, in tents, in forests, in foreign countries, sometimes even in the homes of strangers. People in the midst of wars seek shelter underground in subway stations and tunnels, in caves, I watched a documentary about the war in Syria that drove citizens to build hospitals completely underground. In the midst of war people hide and seek shelter out of sight. During storms and tornadoes, people seek shelter in basements and bathrooms and away from windows, sometimes finding shelter in community centers and hotels. Watching a controlled burn across the meadow from my apartment while writing this reminds me that the only safe shelter from fire is to get away from it. Finding physical shelter can be a challenge in the midst of storms and wars. Sometimes you find the closest shelter, even if it might present its own danger. My sweet mourning doves sought shelter under a table, which seemed safe until the owner came home — then it was back to their tree.
Psalm 18 speaks of a much more reliable shelter in God. And even though God’s shelter doesn’t provide physical warmth in snow or safety from bombs that destroy or the wind that blows or fire that burns, the kind of safety that God provides is just as necessary.
The kind of shelter that God provides is strength when your own life becomes a challenge, comfort when you are frightened or unsure, love when the rest of the people in your life seem bent on hate or have abandoned you, forgiveness and grace when you have made mistakes, guidance when you have lost your way, peace in the midst of violence and chaos, a listening ear when no one seems to hear you.
The tricky thing about God’s shelter is that you might not see it the way you see an underground hospital or a refugee settlement, but you can see and feel the effects of it: strength, comfort, love, peace, forgiveness, hope. It is why the psalmist calls God things like: fortress, stronghold, strength, deliverer, shield. God is all of these things, and maybe even a table with an old rug underneath in the midst of snow. I pray that you might find shelter with God in the midst of your trouble.
— Reflections appears regularly on the religion page. The column features a variety of local writers, coordinated through the Monroe Area Clergy Group. Reverend Kelly Volk is the pastor at Washington Reformation United Church of Christ.
