Flying with Geese

Do you ever have a million thoughts flying around in your head? Colliding into each other? Each rambling down a separate path, but, somehow, you know they are all connected? I do.

The geese last week were migrating. They came in droves to land in the farmers' fields or soar above my head as I trudged to class. I watched them fly in their v's, seamlessly changing leaders, all surging toward what their eyes cannot see and their tiny brains cannot grasp. Surging toward something they simply know is.

I heard a question recently, a question that didn't really want an answer. If God knows our future, why would He create people who He knows will not choose a relationship with Him?

I don't have the answer. I don't think there is one. But I'm reminded of the geese...

I think of the geese that fly without doubt, the geese who do what they're supposed to do without question or suggestion.
How dull it would be to be a goose.
I don't envy geese. I don't want to spend time with them. I would not choose a goose as my best friend or give everything to have a relationship with one. I want to spend time with thinkers. I want to hear other thoughts or opinions, to share life.

When I was young, and only on a few occasions, I played with my grandmother's doll house. I made them talk and walk. I gave them names and personalities. And I suppose I enjoyed it. But the real fun, the real thrill came when I imagined them alive, when I imagined them as little people living, moving, breathing, speaking on their own. I enjoyed the dolls most when the dolls came to life.

God did not want an earth filled with generation after generation of dolls. He wanted life.

I wonder, if  I were Creator, if I could do it. Could I make creatures who would not choose me? Would I make a little boy who would grow into a little man who would declare I didn't even exist? Would I not? Would I refuse to create him simply because he would not choose me? I don't know. It would break my heart.

I am glad we are not ignorant fowl. I am thankful we form opinions and ideas and questions. But I think, eventually, we must choose to fly like the geese. There are seasons for questions; yes, many seasons in my life. However, not every question will have an answer. Not every puzzle piece will fall neatly into its place of logic. It is then that we must fly like the geese: not knowing how or why, but simply soaring, surging toward what we know is truth.