A conservation area about four miles from our house serves as a staging ground for thousands of Canada geese getting ready for their annual migration south. Beginning about the middle of September, their V-formation flight patterns fill the sky, some flocks consisting of only six or eight birds, others made up of 50 or 60, always with a lead goose out in front.
When the lead goose tires and slows down, it drops to the back of the flock, where the slipstream from the wings of the other geese gives it a flight advantage, and another goose gracefully takes up the lead position.
Ornithologists calculate that the geese can fly 70 percent farther by doing this. The ever-changing formations are fascinating to watch. And even in the dark of night or when a low cloud ceiling obscures our view, we know the geese are flying because of their loud honking. It’s as if each one is so eager about the prospects of the journey that it can’t contain its enthusiasm.
It occurred to me one fall Sunday morning that church is a kind of staging ground for heaven. As “birds of a feather,” believers flock together week by week, strengthening our spiritual wings and encouraging one another in preparation for that final flight. When one of us becomes weary, another steps in to take the weary one’s place. I fully believe that the prayer support of fellow believers has often provided the wind beneath my wings.
