An article in National Geographic several years ago provided a penetrating
picture of God's wings. After a forest fire in Yellowstone National Park, forest
rangers began their trek up a mountain to assess the inferno's damage.
One ranger found a bird literally petrified in ashes, perched statuesquely on
the ground at the base of a tree. Somewhat sickened by the eerie sight, he
knocked over the bird with a stick. When he struck it, three tiny chicks
scurried from under their dead mother's wings.
The loving mother, keenly aware of impending disaster, had carried her offspring
to the base of the tree and had gathered them under her wings, instinctively
knowing that the toxic smoke would rise. She could have flown to safety but had
refused to abandon her babies. When the blaze had arrived and the heat had
singed her small body, the mother had remained steadfast. Because she had been
willing to die, so those under the cover of her wings would live.
Isn't that what Jesus did for us? He spread His wings to protect us from the
eternal inferno, He held us close, he showed His love then He died...just for
"For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever
believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life." John 3:16