The lovebird incident...

 Linda has a pair of lovebirds.

Their cage hangs outside on the balcony during the day. We keep a closer eye on them than we used to.

I recently happened upon a snake inside the cage. It was about 3' long, coiled and working its way up. The birds were silently glowering at it from the highest corner they could squeeze into. I wisely froze and screamed "no! no!" Jeremy (our son) came to the rescue (paramedics are good at this). He shook the cage and the snake flew out. It was beaten to death posthaste with a broom. 

But that's not what I want to write about.

We try to save the best show for when Rebekah (our daughter) is here.

The cage comes in every night. If we wait until dark to get it, the birds have already holed up in their little hollowed out log. If you look into it carefully, you can see two sets of tail feathers.

But one day, who knows at what time, one of the four little doors to the cage was either left open or forced open from the inside. The cage had been brought in the night before as per protocol and duly covered. The next morning, I put the cage out... but only one bird. The male was gone. Check inside the log... empty. Re-focus my eyes, find my glasses... concentrate... only one bird.

They were such a great couple, hilarious to watch them bathe together, shred together, destroy together. Linda's weapons of mass destruction? See photo above. It will never be the same... so sad.

But wait... I hear something... out on the back terrace... I think I hear him! Yeah right... I'm hard of hearing and I can pick out the lovebird's voice from the ruckus of the jungle around me... I am an idiot... back in the house.

Minutes later... chirp chirp... he is sitting on top of his cage on the balcony, eyeball to eyeball with his lady friend inside. Unreal... out all night and still here... and he wants back in!

Now what? Sliding doors open, I grab the cage and slowly try to back into the living room with the bird still on top. Nervous hands... rats, he flew away. out to the trees in front of us. End of story, for sure.

We hung the cage back out on the balcony. The conversation between the two birds continued to be, shall we say, animated. It might have been fun to have an interpreter. Then again, judging by the tone of voice from inside the cage, we might have had to send the kids to another room.

Ok, more unreal than the first unreal: a few minutes later he was back on top of his cage! This time, Jeremy, Rebekah and Greg held a "strategery" session. Greg held the net, Jeremy slooowwwlly grabbed the cage, and Rebekah slithered her way around from behind to close the sliding door as soon as possible after getting the cage inside.

This time it worked! But why were we not happy yet? How do you cage an uncaged bird inside your house? 

Jeremy got him from on top of the TV on a stick to as close as facing the opening to the cage. And where did he fly to? to on top of the water cooler... back to the cage... back to the water cooler... to on top of the kitchen cabinets.

By now, we had two nets. I finally got mine positioned far enough back so that the bird could not squeeze past it; Jeremy got his to where the only place to go was into it...finally! But, the little bugger bit the fire out of Jeremy's hand all the way to the cage.

About 45 seconds after the door closed behind him, he was eating, cleaning and making out with his lady friend again. I don't think I would have heard "thank you", even if I knew how to talk lovebird.

I have a sneaking suspicion that he learned NADA from the experience. If we were to leave a door open, the dummy would fly away again. So, we are being extra vigilant now. Unless we open a door, a repeat performance is not in the cards.

This is purposely not precise and certainly not meant to be controversial. But: I think the way I ended up in Christ is better portrayed by a netted lovebird than by a human making a decision.

I didn't come to the party; I was brought.

Not kicking and screaming as if I did not want to come. Linda was already inside. I could see her, I could smell the food, and I was really hungry. But I would never have gotten in without a lot of help. Plus, it comes as a relief to know that leaving depends on who is guarding the door, not on silly birds that think they want to leave.

I am pretty sure that this is not how theologians of bygone eras would have approached the subject. But something about getting Linda's lovebird back in its cage reminded me of what they might have called... irresistible grace.

“No man can come to me, except the Father which hath sent me draw him...” (John 6:44a)

"to what else can this be ascribed, but to unfrustrable and insuperable grace? but though this act of drawing is an act of power, yet not of force; God in drawing of unwilling, makes willing in the day of his power: he enlightens the understanding, bends the will, gives an heart of flesh, sweetly allures by the power of his grace, and engages the soul to come to Christ, and give up itself to him; he draws with the bands of love." JOHN GILL'S Exposition of the Bible (from John 6:44)

“And other sheep I have, which are not of this fold: them also I must bring...” (John 10:16a)