In recent years, I have come to associate quails with Naramata. It’s not uncommon to see the little things with the funny cow-lick scurrying about the village of Naramata, like they’re late for an appointment and trying to ignore someone they recognize along the way. There is something very endearing about them – maybe they remind me of myself – almost always in a hurry scurry.

Can we reclaim the eagle as a symbol not of domination, but of vulnerable strength, communal hope, and the power to restore life?

When my mother moved out of the city (after I went to university) she kept chickens, and when I visited her I used to love going and collecting the eggs (think city girl getting her farm therapy). Except once she told me, as I got ready to go do the collecting – “Be careful, one of the hens is broody. Take a pair of gloves.”

Just as the ostrich drops to the ground to protect her young, maybe too, when danger draws near, God does not hover safely above our suffering. But rather, in Jesus, God comes down to the ground of our lives and spreads wings of compassion around us.