I have been thinking about animal defences.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The porcupine comes with spikes. The tortoise has a shell into which it can retreat when danger arrives. Some animals camouflage themselves, others run so fast that by the time you have decided what to do about them, they are already gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They all seem to have something.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Which got me thinking. What exactly did God give man?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
No spikes. No shell. No camouflage. Against some animals, our chances would be embarrassingly poor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Yet here we are.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Perhaps our defences were not meant to be so obvious. We have intelligence, wisdom, discernment, boundaries and faith. We can recognise danger, anticipate consequences and protect one another.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But having these defences is one thing. Learning to use them is quite another.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Perhaps even the animals have some learning to do. A young tortoise must learn when to retreat, and a young porcupine must eventually discover that its spikes are not merely decorative.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Which leaves me wondering: How do we learn to master our physical and spiritual defences? How do we protect ourselves without becoming hardened, and remain vulnerable to love without becoming defenceless?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Perhaps being equipped is only the beginning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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