Intervention

Yesterday was landscaping day in my neighborhood, the noisiest day of the week. Sleeping babies and old ladies will cry or swear respectively when awakened by the dulcet tones of the gas powered trimmers and ghastly leaf blowers. They’d just finished in front of my place so I rushed out the front door to examine their (ahem) handiwork. A sociable neighbor greeted me, saying that she’d just prevented the team from trimming (read hacking) a particular hedge in front of another neighbor’s home. She led me to the place where a protective yet frightened mother bird had flown away from the abusive auditory assault of the oblivious landscapers. Trying saying that aloud five times fast. Go on, try it . . .

These two unhatched springtime chiclets were only temporarily abandoned though. Thankfully their momma came back and resumed her vigil with only a few ruffled feathers to speak of. But it could have been worse without that bit of mediation.

Its true that sometimes unintended things happen to the smallest and weakest. Sometimes the slightest intervention on our part might make the difference between a happy ending or a tragic one. Today a twiggy home and two tiny lives were spared because of an intervention that was easy to come by and cost nothing. A matter of being in the right place at the right time to change an outcome.

Feel free to use your voice to prevent harm when it is safe for you to do so. You are the one to choose a moment of intervention, large or small. David was likely only 15 years old when he cut off Goliath’s head. It depends on the grace you’ve been given. Sometimes the guts.