Soar

Hawks are becoming one of my favorite animals.

When I was a kid, I devoured a book series about a boy who leaves the city to live in a giant tree in upstate New York, and gentles a baby Peregrine falcon who becomes his friend and hunts with him. He lives simply, staying away from people and using the resources nature offers him to live peacefully. That boy was my hero. I didn't grow up in an area with redwoods or falcons, but I often ran into the woods, scouting for hawks and trees to live in.

Since then, I've been curious about the birds of prey that live in my area of the United States. The most common one is the Red-Tailed Hawk and I quickly learned to recognize its flying silhouette and shrill scream.

Now when I drive to work, I pass through the territory of a beautiful Red-Tailed Hawk, and I occasionally glimpse him perching somewhere or swooping into a field.

The hawk is a solitary, thoughtful bird. He doesn't live with a flock of friends. He's always by himself, calmly observing life.
He's intelligent and deadly, but at first glance he just looks like a ball of feathers. When a hawk is not hunting, you can catch him chilling on a tree branch or a telephone wire with his chest all puffed up, his unblinking gaze studying you passively. He looks totally harmless.
In fact, the hawk doesn't seem to do so well at being fearsome. He's too cute. And mistreated, it seems. It's not rare to see a barely soaring hawk dodging the attacks of a flock of bomber crows who try to knock him out of the sky while screaming insults at him. In those scenes, if I'm watching, I always want to yell at the crows, but I needn't worry.
Because the cute ball of feathers has transformed into a majestic creature that cannot be struck down.
He stays aloft, despite the bodies that slam into him, the claws and beaks that rip out his feathers. He puts his head down, flaps harder and soars away, out of the crows' reach, screaming his triumph.

A few days ago, my students and I witnessed such an event. My quick-witted student burst out, "The hawk is like us and the crows are like the devil, trying to get us down!"
I couldn't have said it better myself.
The moment of this object lesson was perfect, infused with poignant truth.

Under attack, soar.

That's what hawks do. Their dignity under fire is inspiring. They spurn the attacks of the raucous underlings and aim higher, for hawks are bound to soar.

So are we.

Don't let the beatings of the enemy get you down. Remember the dignity you possess as a child of God and use the wings He gave you to soar.