Regrouping

Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. Behold, I am doing a new thing! Isaiah

Every once in a while I see things I’ve not seen before. I know, at my age, that may shock and surprise many, but it’s true. One can have lived through the Jurassic and Triassic periods and still have experiences that surprise and (on occasion) delight.

This week I’ve been watching robins building a nest under the awning that covers a portion of our back deck. Since birds tend to look alike to me, I don’t know if it has been the work of a single bird or a couple, but it has been a weird process. For one thing, they didn’t choose a spot I would have chosen. That makes sense; I’m not a bird, so I don’t know what they look for when they decide it’s time to build a new home.

They chose a spot atop a ledge that didn’t seem to give much support for their nesting materials. They flew in and out regularly with their twigs, lengths of grass and weeds, and bits of material that would never pass muster for most Nest Inspectors – of that I’m sure. They seemed to lose as much building material falling to the space beneath the nest as ever made it into the structure, and yet, instead of dropping down to retrieve the detritus, they would fly off and come back with something else they’d found on their journey.

Consequently, there is almost enough material on our deck beneath the nest as there is in the nest itself. They could have built several nests from all the material they’d gathered. What gives?

Now, if I were going to assign wisdom to our feathered friends, I would presume they looked at the hard wood of the deck and decided they needed to prepare a soft landing zone for their loved ones should they fall out or fail to ascend when the time came for the fledglings to take flight.

I suspect the reality is less reasoned, but more profound. As twigs and grasses fell away, the robins no doubt considered them unworthy nesting materials. They let them go and simply found ingredients that would stick around and hold on more effectively – and it worked!

In life, we call this process “regrouping.” In football, when your offence is going nowhere or marching backwards with bad plays and/or penalties, they will drop back and punt. That’s a form of regrouping. They don’t give up on the game; they give up possession and, while the defense is out doing their part, the offense huddles up on the sidelines to figure out what to do next time they have the ball.

If there is one thing in life that never changes, it is the fact that life is always changing. The fresh air we took in has gone stale; the oxygen has been removed and absorbed into the bloodstream; the time comes we need to exhale and draw fresh breath. That’s a very natural process of regrouping.

Regrouping isn’t failure. It’s actually a healthy form of living. People who can’t or won’t regroup tend to let life’s droppings define them – and usually to their own detriment.

A couple who lost their jobs due to health and the downturn in the economy eight years ago had to move. They lost their home, their insurance, their savings – almost everything.

They didn’t allow those circumstances to define them. They regrouped, found a place to rent, eked out a living, and reluctantly accepted government food benefits to which they were entitled. That saw them through a year or so until they found new employment.

When sick, they visited the local government-funded clinic, paid a pittance and got the care they needed. That held them until the new job provided health benefits as part of its employment package.

The couple didn’t grow fat off the government larder. They survived. The benefits gave them the time they needed to regroup and rebuild their lives. They had faith in God; they also had a well-founded faith in a system that was designed to help its citizenry during times of crisis.

I think that’s some of what made this country great – at least as I see it from our nest here in this, our valley.