Shalom Tidings
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Jan 21, 2022 429 Karen Eberts, USA

All Are Welcome

 It is the little things that matter…

Our long-anticipated visit to Denali National Park in Alaska was almost upon us. We purchased tickets for the following day’s eight hour bus ride where we hoped to see the splendor of creation and an abundance of wildlife. Checking the weather forecast for our adventure, we were more than dismayed to learn precipitation was predicted to be 100% for the entire day! As disappointed as we might be, my husband and I decided it would be wise to change our plans completely, knowing there would be little chance of encountering anything but the inside of a bus on such a rainy day. Thus, it might be said that the next morning we ended up on a lark at Creamer’s Field Migratory Waterfowl Refuge in Fairbanks. 

Perfection in My Hand 

The knowledgeable volunteer docent leading our small group tour began by telling us facts about the sand hill crane, one of the species of birds which depend on the Refuge to feed and rest each fall en route to their wintering grounds to the south. We were astonished to learn that the trachea of these cranes was seven feet in length, wrapped in a convoluted fashion, much like the coils of a French horn. This design resulted in a distinct call, unique to the mother bird’s offspring, which allowed both to remain connected amid the vast throngs of cranes flying in formation each season. Just then a rush of these sleek gray birds rose up in the distance as we watched quietly. 

Tramping over the dew-laden ground, we then headed toward a tent where both volunteers and an ornithologist were busily weighing, measuring and tagging various species of birds in order to track populations over a period of years. After each bird was identified and their information recorded, it was time to release them back into the wild. As a worker handed a songbird to a member of our group, a palm-to-palm transfer was made, at which time the captured bird quickly took flight. When it was my turn, reaching out my palm, a yellow warbler was laid onto its back as my fingers cradled its small body. Unlike the two birds before, this one seemed to settle in, allowing me to stroke it’s feathers as our eyes locked.

Suddenly there was a palpable Presence, as the tenderness of the Creator in this less than three inches of perfection in my hand was evident. The tears began to flow as the refrain of a song began to play in my mind as if synchronized, “All are welcome in this place, here in God’s amazing grace, all are welcome, all are welcome.” Time stood still, yet it could not have been more than a few seconds before I was urged to help the bird roll onto its side. That was all the encouragement needed, as the bird made its way into the sky. Trudging back to the car, silence was my companion. A sacred hush seemed the only appropriate response to this moment of grace. 

Open Arms 

The second stop on our agenda-less day was to an assortment of buildings that had been moved to Fairbanks to recreate a pioneer village. Wandering among the cabins and shops, I came upon a simple church. Opening the door, I walked past the rough-hewn plank pews toward the carved depiction of Jesus hanging from the ceiling. Hands outstretched, as if inviting those who entered to come in, the song’s lyrics lilted once again in my head. “All are welcome in this place.” Again and again this day I had unexpectedly encountered evidence of the lavish love of the Author of life. The care with which a sandhill crane’s call was designed, linking mother and baby; the yellow warbler, able to fly and sing yet weighing less than an ounce; the open palms of caring folks that both receive to give care, then release in trust. Finally, the reminder as I looked up, of the invitation being extended through the hands offered to all who choose to enter into God’s amazing grace. 

Always, all are welcome…


Karen Eberts

Karen Eberts is a retired Physical Therapist. She is the mother to two young adults and lives with her husband Dan in Largo, Florida

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