The Lamentation of the Loon

Genesis one twenty

And God said, "Let the waters bring forth swarms of living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the dome of the sky."

I Am Here, Where are You?

Every year my family vacations at Elim Lodge, a small Christian camp situated in God’s country on Pigeon Lake.  Loons inhabit this same geography and their haunting cry echoes across the lake expressing the deep longing of Genesis. Early one morning while listening to a family of loons crying out their morning prayer, I wrote the following words in my journal:

Overlooking the lake, I see an entire Loon family. I am reminded of our small town festival where I watched an elder silently and lovingly carve out this graceful bird from a piece of discarded wood. He did not say a word.  His peaceful intensity was mesmerizing.  His hands were weathered with age but there was strength in them as they gently carved the loon that one day would sit silently on a shelf.

“Is this how you carved the first loon, Jesus?”

I imagine my Carpenter Father gently carving the first loon into existence. Genesis in the making, He lovingly carves away all that is not loon. As he surveys his handiwork, he quietly whispers, “I will put my longing in you so they will hear my cry.” And breathing on the loon he humbly says, “It is finished, and it is good.” He names him Holy.  Lifting his hands up to heaven he releases the gentle bird that he has so lovingly carved for us. He offers up the loon as a gift to his Father for those he longs for.  He murmurs a quiet prayer for those who listen and hear his longing. And in his incredible mercy, He also whispers a prayer for those who do not hear, “Father, forgive them, for they know not our longing for them.”

My daughter Anna, loves to go tubing and one afternoon while on the water, a single male loon cried out and seemed distressed. Distracted with their water toys; boaters, jet skiers, wake boarders and fishermen seemed unaware of the father loon's cry.

“He can't find his family,” my daughter Anna commented. She recognized that something was amiss. Her words pierced me as I thought of our eternal Father’s heart crying out his longing for his family. A family so distracted with our toys that we miss our Father’s heart cry buried deep within this ancient Genesis creature.

After a few hours of spinning my daughter behind our own toy, we silently cruised back to camp. All was quiet on the water as toys were docked for dinner. As we drifted, my heart prayed across the water.

Suddenly, Anna jumping up from the front of the boat exclaimed, “Look mommy! He found his family!”  In the seclusion of the bull rushes, father loon huddled protectively with his united family.

Bowing their heads in prayer, father loon gave the evening benediction. In the dusk stilled water, one could softly hear the hymn of his holy breath of mercy, "I am here, I am here, I am here."

Isaiah fifty seven thirteen
“When you cry out for help, let your collection of idols save you! The wind will carry all of them off, a mere breath will blow them away. But whoever takes refuge in me will inherit the land and possess my holy mountain.”