Geese?
What am I supposed to do with geese?
I suppose, failing any other answer, I can use them as a writing prompt. And that is what today’s entry is about. Full “pantser” style.
Now that I’ve lost most of you twice, I should back up a bit and answer the questions that I am sure you all have by now.
Why geese?
A few days ago, a friend sent me a text to let me know that she was praying for me, and God told her, “Tell Jac I said ‘geese.'”
My friend added the qualifier that she may have misheard Him (it does happen). We’ll come back to this thought in a moment. Still, I have to consider that she relayed what she heard accurately and God really did tell me “Geese.”
Bonus Question
Before we get back to the geese, some of you might also be wondering what a “pantser” is. Writers generally approach their work as plotters (who prepare a solid outline framework before drafting) or pantsers (who skip the outline and fly by the seat of their pants).
Of course, most writers park somewhere on the spectrum between these two. I tend to be mostly-pantser, preferring a minimalist outline of only the barest key points before I draft. But for this exercise, I’m foregoing even the mental outline and writing as a full pantser with a cold prompt and a timer.
What to do with the geese?
Now that everyone is caught up, let’s get back to it. So, I had received a word from the Lord (literally a single word), which is itself significant since this is only the second time I have had this experience since losing my wife over two years ago. If you’ve read The Widower and the Washer, you may recall that God regularly spoke through Angela. But in this season of life, it is rare that I am the recipient of a direct word.
My natural inclination, when I have only a piece of information, is to treat it as a puzzle to decode or a clue to follow en route to a solution. We’ll come back to this idea, too. There’s a more important step to consider first.
Pray
It’s never incorrect, when the Lord speaks, to treat the occasion as an invitation to converse. After all, He delights in hearing from us (Proverbs 15:8) and is always prepared to receive our prayers.
In a previous entry, I shared how my prayer life is harder to maintain without Angela. Prayer was one of her strengths, and being able to share consistent daily prayer time with her for thirteen years was certainly a benefit to me. Though I am easily distracted and my mind wanders from topic to topic as I pray alone, I still have Angela’s training to fall back on. And lesson one is: When God speaks, keep the conversation going.
So before taking any action, or solving any puzzles, I took some time to pray, to ask God what He wanted to tell me. He hasn’t answered yet, but I’ve learned that the answers don’t always come quickly.
Part of the reason, I think, is because God doesn’t want our conversations to be transactional. He wants them to be relational. Scripture speaks of the value of fervent prayers (James 5:16). So, could a prayer prompt, especially an unusual one that is not easily forgotten, simply be a call to regular prayer? Maybe.
Solving the Riddle
I find it funny that God would give me a word, knowing full well that I’ll treat it as a puzzle, while simultaneously (probably) not wanting me to treat it as a puzzle. Rather, my responsibility is to take what He has given me and trust Him with it. In that way, the geese are a reminder to trust Him, instead of overthinking as I am inclined to do. Or, as Proverbs says it:
Trust in the Lord with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding – Prov. 3:5 NIV
Still, even without an immediate answer, I also don’t assume that I should do nothing while I wait. A pastor one told me one of the most effective ways to confirm God’s instruction is to take a step and see what He does with it.
That is why I’m writing about geese. Because to me it seems like the next sensible step (it also doesn’t cause any harm if I turn out to be completely wrong). And since I’m pantsing here, I may discover a thought or two along the way that I otherwise would miss. So, let’s consider together what else the geese could mean.
Should I go to Wawa?
Readers from this region of the country will understand this reference. For those of you not in Eastern Pennsylvania or New Jersey, Wawa is a ubiquitous convenience store whose logo features a goose. I didn’t make the trip, since between gas and other quick stops, I’ll be at Wawa in the near future anyway. And when I get there, I am certain my mind will come back to this moment.
History with geese?
I can’t think of any profound moments in my past where geese played a significant role. There was the trip to the zoo about ten years ago, where a goose tried bullying my family into sharing our lunch (but we held our ground).
There was also a memorable exchange that Angela had with a relative during our wedding planning. One person was unhappy that we chose a public park as our venue because we’d have to deal with (among other inconveniences) goose [poop]. (Editor: The original wording is not suitable for a family-friendly blog. Though I suppose I could substitute the Greek σκύβαλον (skubalon), maintaining both a family-friendly rating and translational fidelity (see Philippians 3:8).
Is “geese” even correct?
Yes, it is possible that my friend misheard, and that God didn’t really say “geese.” What could He have said, then? The leading candidates are:
- Peace: This is the obvious choice. At the moment of His utterance, my wedding anniversary was approaching, which prompted some vulnerable moments a year ago. In fact, this is likely why my friend (who was present for that scene) was praying for me in the first place.
- Cheese: Blessed are the cheese makers? (I trust no further commentary is necessary.)
- Fleece: This might not be as strange as it sounds, for those that are familiar with Gideon’s story (Judges 6:36-40). The trouble is, I’m not at a pivotal decision moment that would prompt me to put out a fleece. I’m in a season of waiting, not a crossroads.
Geese and Waiting
Perhaps the geese are a metaphor for waiting. I’d like to get back to regular writing, and to start a new project that is brewing in my brain. But God has allocated my writing time to other purposes in this season.
As I’ve previously shared, I do know there is an end in sight. This season is finite and the work I’m doing will be complete in the not-too-distant future. But since that writing, God has put other demands on my time that—though they too are finite—extend the outside edge of this writing-free season. So, the waiting lasts a little longer.
In this corner of Pennsylvania, where we enjoy a robust park system, it is not unusual for traffic to stop while a flock of geese crosses the road. They aren’t usually in a hurry to get across, and have no compulsion to speed up and give the drivers a little relief.
Then, just when you’re about to proceed, a few stragglers come along and extend the delay while they catch up to the rest of the flock.
This is as fitting a metaphor for this season as any. But is this all God is telling me? Wait, and proceed when all the geese have cleared the road? I don’t know.
But what I do know is this: He will open the door for me to resume writing in His time. In the meantime, if I encounter a goose in the park, on the road, or at my local Wawa, I will no doubt be reminded to check in with the One who owns not only the cattle on a thousand hills, but also the geese in a thousand parks.