I saw a UFO tonight.
Well, perhaps I should qualify that statement before going any further. I wouldn’t want you to think I was some wild-eyed conspiracy nut, believing the government is hiding the truth about those strange lights in the night sky, or possibly, even in cahoots with some alien society from the far reaches of outer space.
Still, there were strange lights in the night sky. The dogs had warned me about them. I should have paid attention. I didn’t, simply suggesting to them I might consider that they were bad dogs if they continued their barking.
They went to bed.
I’m still awake. I wonder.
I said it was a UFO, didn’t I? It was, indeed, an unidentified flying object. To me, it was. That said, someone somewhere knows what it is.
I suppose, given the proximity of our home to the local university, it could have been a drone from their photography department taking night shots of the local community. If so, they’ve got a shot of me standing in an empty field in the sub-freezing temperatures, staring up at the lights in the sky.
Oh, look! There’s that Phillips nut. You can really tell he’s outstanding in his field, can’t you?
Honestly, I don’t know what the lights were. I stood and watched them until the cold drove me back inside.
I would like to know what that thing was, though. I suppose I’ll probably never discover that.
I bet tonight’s the only night I’ll lose any sleep over it.
I went to the public library with the Lovely Lady the other day. We split up as soon as we entered the front door, each having a pretty good idea of where we’d find the books which would entertain or educate us.
As I stood contemplating a novel or two (entertainment, not education), she came walking past, showing me the important find she had made.
I laughed. It was a bird identification book.
You see, the Lovely Lady has her own version of the UFO. I suppose it was over a year ago when she had her first sighting.
No. That’s not right.
It wasn’t a sighting; it was her first hearing of that bird’s song. She has described it to me several times in great detail, the onomatopoeic repetition being almost as enjoyable as actually hearing the bird myself.
She wants the unidentified winged creature to stand up and be recognized. Absent the willing participation of said feathered creature, she is hoping for aid from other humans in giving a name and image to the sound she has heard numerous times. In recent days, she has enlisted the assistance of my sister in the bird-hunt.
I am not participating.
Some things I just don’t need to know.
I am happy that the bird sings. I wish it good health and long life, with many descendants.
I don’t need to know what it looks like, nor where it makes its nest. Just as I won’t be searching diligently to find the source of the lights in the sky earlier tonight, I am content to leave our fine feathered friend alone to sing his song.
Why is it we need to delve into the details of so many things?
Why? How? When?
Why are we not content simply to know that they are?
We’re not just talking about UFOs and unfamiliar birds here, are we?
There are days, and sometimes weeks, and yes, even years when we walk without answers—in the dark, if you will—not knowing how or when we will ever see the light of day again, but somehow believing that we will see it.
I claim to walk by faith, but I put the lie to my claim if I demand the evidence before I’ll take another step.
Faith is all the evidence we need of things we cannot see with our own eyes. (Hebrews 11:1)
How about it? Have you crossed the shaky bridge to the unfamiliar terrain on the other side and recoiled at what you found there? Do you need more information before you determine it’s safe to move on ahead?
Why do we hazard the bridge in the first place? Do we suppose the One who told us to take that first step is surprised at what we found when we took the tenth step? Or the fiftieth step?
Here is what I know.
When I hear a bird singing in the tree, I don’t need to see it to know it’s real. I don’t need to know what family it is descended from to believe it is near or that its Creator will care for it.
I don’t need to know. I just need to trust.
And walking, I remember that my Father cares for me more than He does for that elusive bird in the bush.
He told me that—the One I’m following. (Luke 12:7)
And, that’s all I need to know.
I am the wisest man alive, for I know one thing, and that is that I know nothing.
(from The Republic ~ Plato)
Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God!
How unsearchable his judgments,
and his paths beyond tracing out!
(Romans 11:33 ~ NIV ~ Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2018. All Rights Reserved.