Don't Start With a Parrot

I want to talk you out of getting a parrot. Really.

I consider myself an experienced parrot owner. I'm not necessarily proud of how I got there. 20+ years ago, we wanted a pet but the landlord had fur allergies. We dropped a grand on a red lored Amazon. He was beautiful and full of personality plus.

Through spilled blood and junk food, Zadok and I developed an understanding and then a friendship. We had him through 3 apartments and even a cat. In Zadok's mind, the flock hierarchy went me, Zadok and then my husband. At the bottom was the cat.

When I say he had personality plus, I mean it. Zadok loved the shower. He'd ride on my shoulder as I walked around the neighborhood. His first word was "hello," which I got him to say by rewarding him with a sunflower seed every time he tried. Then he "hello hello hello-d" us happily. He learned to meow like a cat. I taught him to say "praise God!" which was harder for him. It sounded like a whistle with a honk. He would chase the cat and then laugh at her. And beautiful? He was gorgeous.

Then I went to night shift. His background screaming became unbearable. He actually had been screaming all along. We'd screamed back at him, which would limit it for a time. But I couldn't scream at him when I was trying to sleep. We found a new home for him. The lady lived on a farm. She once taught a cockatoo to stop swearing by filling it with good words. It sounded like a match.
I was very sad and my pride took a huge hit, but we decided it was for the best.

Years later, a friend had adopted a greyhound. He was too much the predator her little Senegal parrot. We offered to adopt this sweet, quiet birdie. Sonny was not as personality packed as Zadok. He liked to be on my finger, liked my shoulder, though. He also liked to chew any wood he could find. The landlord made us get rid of him. Again, we found a home, this time with a person who wanted a quiet companion.

Fast forward to our current era: new landlord, same rules. No dogs or cats. The dog lover in me ached for a companion. It ached for an animal for our son to raise and nurture. He had done well caring for a parakeet. Was it time for another parrot?

I decided that if we were going to go the parrot route again, I was going to be prepared. Although little Keekee the parakeet was always a caged bird, I began to sit with her with the cage door open. I'd speak to her, whistle, make kissy sounds. I'd hold a couple seeds in my hand until my hand went numb and I had to put the seeds back into her dish.
And so Keekee, the 10+ year old parakeet, began to change. Or rather, I did. I guess we both changed. She began to greet me, with little kissy sounds. Then one day, she pecked at my hand. It startled me, I dropped the seed and I scared her. We kept trying. I realized the peck was probably what I'd seen parakeets do to each other at the pet store. It was social behavior! I was heartened and kept trying.
Keekee never made it to my finger. In fact, she died, but I was with her when she did. My son sadly said, "Maybe I should have taken better care of her." Maybe I should have.
Out of curiosity, I looked up the life expectancy of parakeets. Wow, Keekee was one old bird! I reassured our son that he did take very good care of her.

When I was working with Keekee, I was also reading. I devoured "Bird Talk" magazine. I bought and actually read books. With my current knowledge, I am dismayed by what I didn't know. In fact, we might never had had to re-home Zadok, had I done things differently. I knew nothing about screaming, about bird dominance, about food choices. I can only shake my head and forgive myself.

I very much wanted a Goffin's cockatoo. The happy dancing bird at the pet store won my heart. I kept reading. I decided against the Goffin's. I love the beauty and intelligence of the African grey. I remember how sad I was when the famous Alex died. I kept reading. I decided against the African grey. I didn't want a big parrot that could remove my child's finger, but I didn't want a smaller bird. (I now believe there is no such thing as a "starter bird.")
The caique seems to have all the personality of a cockatoo in a smaller body. I kept reading. Caiques often enjoy several family members rather than latching on to only one person. I kept reading. They entertain themselves and seem pretty trainable. I checked out the caique forums.
We decided.
We found a breeder.
We bought a sweet tempered white bellied caique.
Skipper came home with us.

Why do I write all this? Forewarned is forearmed.
Having a parrot is NOT for everyone. Parrots should never be bought on impulse. Parrots cost a heap of money and you may end up giving away your bird after spending $2-3K. Parrot bites HURT. Parrot shrieks are ear splitting and may turn your neighbors into enemies. Parrots are destructive and astoundingly messy. Parrots are not domestic animals. They are prey animals who live in fear. They also live forever, unless they die suddenly from inhaling teflon or scented candles.
You must NEVER EVER think of your parrot as your child. Please don't call yourself "Mommy." It is a wild animal. It is incapable of human emotions. It is the human's responsibility to become part of the parrot's flock. It is your job to learn the parrot's language.

Although parrots don't really live "forever," I am dead serious. If you are single but hope to have a relationship one day, DON'T get a parrot. Parrots are very sensitive to change. If a man comes into your life, you may have to choose between the two. If your sweetheart has birds, DON'T get a parrot. The birds may get each other sick or even hurt each other irreparably. Some parakeets carry a germ that can kill a larger parrot.

Here is a checklist of considerations. I'm not trying to be snotty or supercilious. I want to spare prospective bird owners heartache by learning from my mistakes.

1. Are you emotionally stable? Are you prepared to invest in a creature that may never be warm and cuddly?
2. Do you have a solid block of time every day for training?
3. Will you live longer than your investment? For example, if you are in your sixties, I strongly suggest against a bird that will outlive you.
4. Can you afford the cost of cage, food and vet bills? (Ka-ching!)
5.  Will this be your only pet? My cat sent Zadok to the vet. (Ka-ching!)
6. Is there a nearby veterinarian who is comfortable treating birds? It's not easy trimming your own bird's beak and nails without help.
7. Do you handle the unpredictable well? If you are nervous, guess who's more likely to bite.
8. Can you tolerate noise, either ear splitting or repetitive?
9. Do you have a bird friendly helper so you can go away for a few days?
10. If you have a significant other, does s/he also answer the above questions with "yes"?

If you can honestly answer yes to all of these questions, then begin your homework. You'll still need to choose a breed that will work for your life situation. I wish you the very best.

A Short Muse About Football

Recently a friend asked on social media why people like football so much. The ensuing conversation caused me to wonder for myself.
    Why do I enjoy pro football? Or, perhaps, why do I enjoy football? And why do I enjoy football?
    My high school friends could tell you one reason, but that was a long time ago! (And no, I won't tell you what his name was.)
    To me, a well-played football game is full of strategy. It amazes us with those who have taken talent beyond where most people dare. Talking sports is a great way to break the ice, turning coworkers into friends. A live game is an experience that continually shifts between exhilaration and the heartbreak of election night when your candidate doesn't win.
    At first, watching an NFL game is largely mysterious and boring. I found there were players whose style amused me. Watching those particular players made the game more interesting.
    As I learned a little more, I started calling "holding" or "illegal block in the back," sometimes before the refs threw those goofy yellow flags. I'm still learning the formations and the plays. I can identify a "shotgun" formation. I'm starting to see a "go" route once the announcers say that's what it was.
    As for the roles of each player, I just grin at the genius of the system. It takes all kinds. My favorites are the diminutive (in NFL terms) running backs like Danny Woodhead. I particularly identify with them. Although I wasn't good at throwing the football, I sure could plow through a lot of neighborhood kids when I had it!
    Each player has a specific size, build, skill set and mindset. Whether kicker, tight end, strong safety or quarterback, football involves the most body types of any professional sport. Skinny? There's a place for you. Big legs? Come on over. Giant? Fast? Thickset? Yep. A brilliant strategist? Bingo. 300 pounds can be a thing of beauty when it's protecting another player.
    Then the pendulum swings. Am I really enjoying a sport that causes such tremendous physical harm, including brain damage? one that turns near-adolescents into overnight millionaires and ridiculously selfish individuals?
    But you know what? Not every player is a spoiled brat. And although some accuse the NFL of becoming too wimpy, I believe it is working to make the game safer.
    My conclusion? I'll let you know when the pendulum stills.

Pigeon Behavior in Cold Weather

To the backyard naturalist, there is always - always - something fascinating, even amazing. I sincerely believe that God put me on this earth to be fascinated, amazed and delighted at His creation. This week, it was pigeons that surprised me and made me smile.

Through many Vermont winters, I have noticed that as the weather gets colder, pigeon behavior changes.
There's a school across from my workplace. All summer and into the fall, pigeons haphazardly place themselves on the school's slanted roof. As summer wanes, they move up to the top of the roof.
When the cold comes, they move from the roof to the power lines between our buildings.
The colder it gets, the smaller their personal (pigeonal?) space becomes. Around freezing, they may be a pigeon width apart. As it gets colder, they get closer. When it's really cold (subzero), they are touching or missing entirely from the wire. (I don't know where they go.)
I've enjoyed my little birdie thermometers. By the time I get to work, there they are, agreeing with me: "Baby it's cold outside!"
Earlier this week, I saw something bizarre. I saw that the pigeons thought it was about 15-20º F. They were spaced a half-pigeon apart. It was in the 30ºs that morning. Wait, what?
And then I realized that pigeons react to the weather the same way we do. Just think: in the summer, if it drops to 40º, we complain how cold it is. Why then, when the "January Thaw" comes, do we strip off our coats (and, at UVM, lie on the rooftops in bathing suits) and revel in the 40º warmth?
[I digress, but I am totally serious. Whether it is the January thaw or mud season, Vermont folk don flip flops and shorts. It's in the rule book. Some Vermont folk never stop wearing shorts. I'll still wear capris to work, but that's usually when I haven't done laundry.*]
What I had thought a measurable indicator of temperature (the pigeon spacing) turns out to be much more subjective. My dismay was only temporary. I can safely predict that as November turns to December, my bird-ometers will have re-calibrated.

*For the skeptic, here is a picture I took of my feet the year Lake Champlain flooded, affecting so many for so long. It was April, but you get the point.

Blessings and stay warm!

For the Grammarian

     It is a tough time for grammarians.
    Admittedly, (American) English is a living, evolving language. Words rise, words fall.     The twenty-first century, however, comes with a cataclysmic event that threatens grammar as we know it.
     The asteroid that struck, the deluge that drowns, is the internet. 
     In itself, the internet is not inherently evil. It isn't even sentient! (Or is it?) On the positive side, users of social media may connect with friends, plan gatherings and follow world events. On the negative side, there is an obvious lack of privacy. Even so, posting pictures of one's children, vacation dates and birthdays is still volitional.
     If you want to make a grammarian cringe, just show him or her your social media page. Attack him or her with the plural pronoun instead of the singular. Confuse the possessive and contraction of a pronoun. Let your autofill control your text and don't proofread before hitting "send." Let the computer determine whether your apostrophe looks like a "6" or a "9."
     Some of us still remember from Sunday school that we should "judge not." The phrase is incomplete without the rest of the verse. Jesus instructs us to "judge not that ye be not judged." I believe it means that if I were to hold a harsh standard, I should hold it to myself as well.
     I have weighed myself in the balance and found myself wanting.
     Long ago, I began using sentence fragments. Doctors and caregivers want only facts in a nursing note. Sentence fragments save time.
     I then learned and practiced screenwriting formats. My sense of grammar took another hit.
     I now frequently ignore capitals. 
     Before you become enraged at my most recent offense, I ask for clemency. My dominant hand has been immobilized for three months. Typing with one hand made me evaluate what is truly important in life: family, friends and social media. Typing in lower case allows me to use just one hand. Most of my facebook posts are now lower case.
     What followed was an e. e. cummings type of joy. As only the virtuoso violinist can intentionally sound truly awful, a true master of the English language has at his or her command the most wonderful range of intentional mistakes. In those intentional mistakes, I have found new freedom.
     With freedom comes responsibility. And with that realization, I promise I will not use a reflexive pronoun as a subject. I promise.

Loom Knit a Baby Bunting - a prototype

A friend is having a baby. For a couple weeks, in my head I designed a baby bunting. Not sure how big to make it, I went to another friend who has a grandbaby. She actually had what I was talking about. We traced it onto a piece of newspaper. It was a 6-12 month size and it fit neatly into a folded out newspaper flyer.

As it is my prototype bunting, I took photos as I went. I used the blue loom because the green one has another project on it. Overall, it used about 1+1/4 of 6 oz skeins of "Red Heart Baby Clouds."

Start with S-wrap. I used 26 pegs x2. It turned out a little too wide. You may want to do 24 or 22 long by 2 wide.

The S-wrap will be the bottom of the "baby bag."

Knit one row. After that row, you will do the e-wrap around every peg and knit until you get the desired length. The e-wrap makes it hollow, or bag-like.

Once you reach the desired length, crochet off the front and sides. I worked it a little longer in the back.

Next, I added a second strand of yarn in the same color. I planned to work both straps at the same time and not have to remove either from the loom.

I established 2 straps of 5 loops each. I can't begin to tell you how I managed to start one strap, crochet off the center and start on the other strap. It involved passing one yarn strand over the other. It wasn't pretty, but the bulky and irregular nature of the yarn proved forgiving.

Not knowing how to make buttonholes, even though I read how to do it with the loom, I cheated and crocheted a little loop for each strap. I wanted to use big, safe buttons and they didn't fit through the weave. They say, "Necessity is the mother of invention." They're right. Whoever they are.

And here it is, my baby bunting prototype!

my #InternationalLoveCast - an introvert becomes extroverted

What is it about a cast that makes one want to grab a Magic Marker (if you live in NJ) or a Sharpie (if you live in VT) and write on it?

I'm currently sporting a hot pink waterproof cast. I chose pink because fluorescent orange would be too showy. I will pause to let you savor the humor in that.

It all started at work.
I was talking with the evening supervisor about being newly left-handed. Before I realized it, one of the nursing assistants took a marker and wrote "I LOVE U" on my cast.
Rather stunned and feeling slightly stupid, I was speechless.
But then the supervisor had a great idea. She called the other nursing assistants over and asked them to write "I love you" in their own first languages.
Thus my International Love Cast was born. First, it was abbreviated English and then Ukrainian. Next came Nepalese and French. One of my patients wrote "Ich leiben diche" for German. It was a little late to correct her spelling, but it does add charm. My niece wrote "te amo."
This is where I became temporarily extroverted.
I was out shopping and heard a family speaking a language I didn't recognize. I started with, "May I ask you a favor...?" They were intrigued and I now have Tibetan for "I hope you get well soon."
Motivation does surprising things.
Sooo, if English isn't your first language, don't be startled if a girl in a pink cast approaches you and asks you to join in the #InternationalLoveCast. It's all in fun and we might become friends, too!

As an aside, does anyone have a cure for Sandi Patty's "Love in Any Language"? I keep singing it. That, and the Miracles' "I'm Just a Love Machine."

loom knitting as therapy

On July 30, 2014, I became left handed. 

   What?

   It was a normal day until a swerving car crossed lanes and hit us head-on. I thank God that we are alive and recovering (the other driver, my occupant and I). My purpose for this blog entry, however, has very little to do with the accident.

   As of July 30, a broken right wrist has made its impact on my life. Other than playing instruments, I am desperately right handed. Or was. My first splint and cast entirely covered my thumb and most of my hand, turning me into an instant "lefty."

   Between the fracture and other injuries, there was very little I could do. I got so bored that I read more books in one week than I had the entire year before. (That doesn't include half of Les Miserables, which counts as three or four books.) How I missed writing, playing my instruments and knitting.

   Well, today is day 40. I decided it's time to at least try working on a project I had started two months ago. 

   Guess what.

   I'm knitting again!

   I discovered that loom knitting is VERY good therapy for people who have lost the use of a dominant hand. The very reasons that started me loom knitting are the very reasons why it is a wonderful adaptation and therapy device!

1. It controls the tension of the yarn.

2. It is easy.

3. You get quick results.

   To this I add that holding the hook device will strengthen the non-dominant hand in preparation for the fine coordination for tasks such as writing.

   I can't guarantee that your non-dominant handwriting won't continue to look like chicken scratch, but it might be much neater chicken scratch!

Blessings,

mrfb

on compassion

I don’t consider myself a compassionate person.

            “But you’re a nurse!” one might say. One may also think, “Didn’t you say you’re a Christian?”

            I suppose I should elaborate: I certainly feel compassion. I even act out of compassion. I feel that I lack, however, something of the innate empathy and understanding that many of my fellow nurses and fellow believers possess. Until I experience an event or circumstance, my only grasp is cognitive.

            What then am I, a vain, self-centered wannabe rock star, to do? When faced with a patient’s pain or fear or loss, I wait. I’m prepared to wait ten seconds, but it usually takes mere microseconds. The Holy Spirit does something remarkable. He floods me with a heavenly connection that melts me with divine love and mercy. I fall madly in love with the person before me and I feel like I can move heaven and earth on his or her behalf.

            A new question arises. Can a vain, self-centered wannabe rock star become a compassionate person? 

            I’m willing to try.

Grey Catbird

Yesterday, a handsome grey bird with a skinny, pointed beak and long legs hopped by my door step and disappeared into the shrubbery. This morning I heard the call and knew.
I have a grey catbird living nearby!
The picture doesn't do it justice; my new friend was very sleek, a supermodel of sorts.
http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/gray_catbird/id
http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/gray_catbird/id


From your backyard naturalist, have a bird-filled day!

Coffee and I - part 3

The smell of coffee always reminds me of home, of Mom tossing the coffee grounds into the compost, of Dad’s outside projects, of cups wedged between the dashboard and windshield of the Dodge station wagon. (Yes, there was a time that cars didn’t have “cup holders.”)

            I very much liked the aroma. I very much disliked the taste.

            There were two instigating factors that made me realize this had to change: Glen Holmen after the Peter Gabriel concert and working the night shift.

            Flash back to 1986, before my 15 minutes of fame at the U2 concert. Living in Santa Monica, my husband and I befriended Steve Taylor’s bass player, Glen Holmen. For a hoot, we sent him a ticket to a Peter Gabriel concert. We all went, had a great time. He dropped us off at our place and we found out that Miriam doesn’t know the first thing about making coffee!

            When we moved back to Vermont a few months later, I got a job as a nursing assistant on night shift. The wonder and the ritual of coffee continued. Weary nurses and assistants huddled over mugs of the steaming brew, often with a cigarette in the other hand. (Yes, there was a time when nurses could smoke at the desk.)

            One night, a nurse from another unit came up with a silver tea set and General Foods International Coffee. I had seen the commercials: “I detect a little mint.”

            It was then that the mystique and practicality of concentrated caffeine hit me, first in waves and then in desperation. Could this amazing liquid help me get through the night shift?

            I then embarked on a personal odyssey. I was going to learn to make coffee. I was going to learn to like it. I taught myself to like Brussels sprouts; I could learn to like coffee.

            He must have heard of my plight, for my brother bought me a coffee maker. Let the experiments begin.

            Black: bleck.

            With milk: a little better.
            Half and half? Now we’re talking. But it’s still hard to drink.

            Wait, don’t the Brits drink something like buttered coffee? Tried it. Weird.

            Okay, so people have these flavored coffees, like vanilla. I have some of that. Not sure how to measure it, so here’s a dollop.

            As a teetotaler, that tiny amount of alcohol did a strange thing. By now I was very awake, but suddenly very relaxed. I nixed the vanilla extract idea.

            It didn’t take too many days after that for me to realize that coffee didn’t have to taste awful. I eventually read the recommended proportions of water and grounds. I had been making a poor man’s espresso. “When all else fails, read the [fine] manual.”

            Success!

           

            Now I hope there will come a day when I can offer my favorite bassist a cup of coffee.

Coffee and I - part 2

part 2

            We’d ridden along Route 100, been cooled by the fragrant edge of Moss Glen Falls, counted our swallows as we climbed and descended the mountain. We were almost there, almost in Waitsfield, where a beloved aunt and uncle lived in the General Wait home.

            Before entering the darling little town, it would greet us: the aroma of roasted coffee. A small business called Green Mountain Coffee Roasters was preparing its coffee beans. Even though I was still too young for coffee, how I loved that aroma!

            I must admit, however, how much more I loved the aroma of Aunty Ruth’s celebrated home made dinner rolls. But that is another story.

Coffee and I

     We’ve heard it, smelled it, tasted it. Some like it. Some hate it.

            And then there are those of us who love it. Ours is a passion and sentiment that rivals even that for chocolate. It wakens, welcomes, speaks, socializes, feeds and even puts the bold to bed.

            Mom or Dad let me try it when I was a little. I didn’t like it. I marveled at the bitterness. It must be one of those magical grownup things. Perhaps that wondrous aroma promised the revealing of a mystery that was yet beyond me.

            That mystery is coffee.

            Coffee was part of my life from my preverbal days. It fascinated me. Mom and Dad drank coffee with milk. I remember the cloudy white center in that singular light brown liquid that evolved when a cup of it was left forgotten. I often saw the cloud in the bottom of a cup in the sink, too. A gentle shake of the cup produced delightful transformations.

            Dad had a plastic mug with a removable wire handle. It was a sparkly copper brown color with a white lip and white inside. The white often bore horizontal rings of brown staining. Like the rings on a tree, the space between the rings revealed Dad’s coffee drinking style. He would sip and work, sip and work. Sometimes there was a big gulp.

            Long before the “Red Solo Cup,” Mom and Dad and a whole bunch of people in the 1970s used Solo cups. There was a plastic frame into which you popped conical disposable cups. I wonder if they still exist. Perhaps it is better if they don’t. Nonetheless, it was a remarkable idea for marketing. The inserts couldn’t stand on their own. If you bought the idea or bought the holders, you had to buy more inserts.

            That sounds like today’s Keurig style coffee makers!

            

No Fear Hezekiah Style: part 2

Part 2: The Attack of the Enemy

         Today, we return to the text of II Kings 18 and II Chronicles 29. It is the biblical account of Assyria's King Sennacherib and his propaganda attack against the people of Judah. For the beginning context, you may want to reference my blog of May 26, 2014. Although I am writing this primarily for believers, I hope it will give any reader concrete tools to help him/her become free from fear.

        When I first started playing violin in church, I had some very skewed priorities. I knew I was called to worship, called to do it publicly. At the same time, I was desperate for approval, fearful of playing the wrong note, fearful of sounding bad, fearful of the opinions of others. Did you know that desperation for approval and fear of people’s opinions are two sides of the same coin?

         As a novice on the worship team, I had so much to learn that I practiced 3-5 hours a day! I ran through a new set of strings every month or two. I actually became very good. The compliments, love and accolades accumulated. Strangers would look at me and recognize me. I got invitations to play with some amazing musicians. As good as it felt to me, the heart of the matter was still fear combined with the need to belong and be loved.

         Many Christians call this “the fear of man.” We crave and yet fear the opinions of others. Being shy, having crowd anxiety, locking myself in a public bathroom to cry, being sick to my stomach at every baby shower: these are symptoms of fear of man. I’ve been there.

         No more!

         Say it with me: No more!

         Fear is the enemy. I have a personal vendetta against the thing that crippled me, stole my joy, almost ruined my life. I thank God for people that came alongside me, taught me, loved me and brought me to the other side. Fear doesn’t want you to believe it, but you can beat the snot out of fear and come out victorious.

         Rather predictably, when I started delving into this study, Fear started attacking me. I thought I was writing this for others and I realized that I was writing it for myself. I had already gained the victory over Fear, but Fear is a sore loser and keeps looking for a foothold.

         Accordingly, I thanked the Holy Spirit for showing me. I dealt with it and moved on. I’m not going to tell you how yet. If I were to give you a quick answer, I may do more harm than good. I take seriously the warning Jesus gave in Matthew 12:

Matthew 12:43-45a When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walketh through dry places, seeking rest, and findeth none. Then he saith, I will return into my house from whence I came out; and when he is come, he findeth it empty, swept, and garnished. Then goeth he, and taketh with himself seven other spirits more wicked than himself, and they enter in and dwell there: and the last state of that man is worse than the first. ...

       The Holy Spirit chose to have the writer of II Kings give great detail of Sennacherib’s propaganda attack against the people of Judah. As I studied this section, I noted several distinct methods of attacking the faith of believers. Sennacherib attacked physically, financially and in the world of ideas. Physical and financial situations can make us even more susceptible to losing the war in our minds. That’s why I am showing you Fear’s methods. Winning the war in our minds is a key step to winning over Fear.

        Let's open up II Kings 18 and II Chronicles 32. This will show Fear's step by step attack.
      

1. Eliminate allies.

II Kings 18:9-11 And it came to pass in the fourth year of king Hezekiah, which was the seventh year of Hoshea son of Elah king of Israel, that Shalmaneser king of Assyria came up against Samaria, and besieged it. And at the end of three years they took it: even in the sixth year of Hezekiah, that is the ninth year of Hoshea king of Israel, Samaria was taken. And the king of Assyria did carry away Israel unto Assyria, and put them in Halah and in Habor by the river of Gozan, and in the cities of the Medes:

           

II Chronicles 32:1 After these things, and the establishment thereof, Sennacherib king of Assyria came, and entered into Judah, and encamped against the fenced cities, and thought to win them for himself.

II Kings 18:13 Now in the fourteenth year of king Hezekiah did Sennacherib king of Assyria come up against all the fenced cities of Judah, and took them. 

         The Assyrian king Shalmaneser eliminated Judah’s sister country Israel. There was a lull of about 8 years. Then the next king, Sennacherib, takes the fenced cities of Judah.                       

2. Eliminate resources.
II Kings 18:14-16 And Hezekiah king of Judah sent to the king of Assyria to Lachish, saying, I have offended; return from me: that which thou puttest on me will I bear. And the king of Assyria appointed unto Hezekiah king of Judah three hundred talents of silver and thirty talents of gold.

 And Hezekiah gave him all the silver that was found in the house of the LORD, and in the treasures of the king’s house.

 At that time did Hezekiah cut off the gold from the doors of the temple of the LORD, and from the pillars which Hezekiah king of Judah had overlaid, and gave it to the king of Assyria.

         Hezekiah is about 39 or 40 now. You know the saying “39 and holding”? He’s 39 and holding on!

         Sennacherib levies a burden that Hezekiah can barely pay. In verse 15, he surrenders his personal treasures and the gold and silver in the temple. 

3. Chip away at established faith, both individually and in the church.

         To pay the protection money, Hezekiah takes silver and gold from the temple. Vs. 16 says he removes the gold from the doors. Then he takes the gold he had laid on the pillars.          

         II Chronicles says the first thing Hezekiah did as a 25 year-old king was to start repairing the temple.

II Chronicles 29:3 He in the first year of his reign, in the first month, opened the doors of the house of the LORD, and repaired them.

         Hezekiah loved God so much that in his very first month as king he began restoring the temple. I imagine him planning and waiting for his chance to undo the evils his father and his ancestors have done. What joy, hope and promise are revealed in his first days as king!

         Sennacherib’s demand leads Hezekiah to undo his first documented public act of faith and worship. We can’t know what Hezekiah felt at that time. Scripture is clear that he loved God and cared for God’s people. He chooses to preserve God’s people the best way he can. He made his choice. Did he lack faith and give in to fear? Maybe. I’m not going to judge him. In my daily life, my decisions may affect many people, but my decisions have not yet had direct impact upon the fate of a nation.

         Fear doesn’t merely want your money. Fear only settles at total annihilation. Sennacherib never intended to leave Hezekiah and Judah alone.

         From the next verse, we see more prongs of Fear’s strategy.

           

4. Send messengers.

2Kings 18:17 And the king of Assyria sent Tartan and Rabsaris and Rabshakeh from Lachish to king Hezekiah with a great host against Jerusalem. And they went up and came to Jerusalem. And when they were come up, they came and stood by the conduit of the upper pool, which is in the highway of the fuller’s field.     

    Tartan, Rabsaris and Rabshakeh are about to lay out a tremendous verbal war. It’s a long one and brutal. 

5. Prepare to annihilate.

  Sennacherib sends a great host. The great host is dbk kabed lyx cheyl. That word kabed is closely related to dbk kabad, which is used to describe the heavy presence of God. We’re talking one heavy army.

6. Uncertainty feeds fear.

         Sennacherib sends a great host against Jerusalem after Hezekiah paid protection money. Hezekiah sees that he can’t trust Sennacherib to keep his word.

         Assyria’s previous king took captives, but Hezekiah and his people have no guarantee that their lives will be spared. If Sennacherib can’t be trusted in one aspect, how can he be trusted in another?

7. Go public.

         Tartan, Rabsaris and Rabshakeh stand by the upper pool on the way to the fuller’s field. They choose a spot that everyone would see. This location is beneficial to the Assyrians and detrimental to Judah.

         Isaiah once met with Hezekiah’s father, King Ahaz, in the same place. For context, see Isaiah 7:3.

8. Make it fearful to meet your needs (water). 

9. Make if fearful to get clean (fuller’s field).

         At first, it seems ridiculous for a human to fear getting clean. Symbolically and spiritually, however, many humans experience this. How hard is it to do the right thing? to apologize? to admit a mistake to one’s boss? to give up an addiction? to give up the sin that gives pleasure? Yes, getting clean can be a fearful prospect. 
  

10. Fear exalts itself and garners others to do the same.

 II Kings 18:18-19 And when they had called to the king, there came out to them Eliakim the son of Hilkiah, which was over the household, and Shebna the scribe, and Joah the son of Asaph the recorder.

 And Rabshakeh said unto them, Speak ye now to Hezekiah, Thus saith the great king, the king of Assyria, What confidence is this wherein thou trustest?

         “The great king, the king of Assyria” is lwdg gadowl + Klm melek. It can mean large, loud, older, more important, greater or haughty. If Sennacherib had said this of himself, it might be less significant. In this case, Sennacherib has sent witnesses to proclaim his greatness.

         The Assyrian tormentors address Eliakim (household manager), Shebna (the statistician/money guy) and Joah (the memory keeper). Figuratively and if it can, literally, Fear will try to attack your home, your money and your memories.

11. Disrespect you and shame you.

         In front of Hezekiah’s people, the 3 tormenters call out Hezekiah. Fear doesn’t just want you but wants everyone around you. Fear wants the hearts of the ones who trust you and whittles away the authority of those you trust. Fear doesn’t mind embarrassing you in front of your friends or enemies at the same time.  

12. Belittle your source of counsel and strength.

 II Kings 18:20-22 Thou sayest, (but they are but vain words,) I have counsel and strength for the war. Now on whom dost thou trust, that thou rebellest against me? Now, behold, thou trustest upon the staff of this bruised reed, even upon Egypt, on which if a man lean, it will go into his hand, and pierce it: so is Pharaoh king of Egypt unto all that trust on him. But if ye say unto me, We trust in the LORD our God: is not that he, whose high places and whose altars Hezekiah hath taken away, and hath said to Judah and Jerusalem, Ye shall worship before this altar in Jerusalem?

           

         In 20-21, they say Egypt’s help is useless. [Israel and Egypt weren’t always enemies. Historically, Israel often sought and received the help of Egypt.]

         In verse 22, the 3 tormentors say even God can’t help. Fear chips, chips, chips away at your faith. Fear wants you to forget your victories in the past.

13. Equate the desire to survive with rebellion. 

II Kings 18:20 Thou sayest, (but they are but vain words,) I have counsel and strength for the war. Now on whom dost thou trust, that thou rebellest against me?

         See how the enemy twists motives? He purposefully misinterprets our motives to make us seem selfish or rebellious.    
    

14. Lie about what represents God.

 II Kings 18:22 But if ye say unto me, We trust in the LORD our God: is not that he, whose high places and whose altars Hezekiah hath taken away, and hath said to Judah and Jerusalem, Ye shall worship before this altar in Jerusalem?

           

         They assert that those high places which Hezekiah destroyed were devoted to God. Fear wants to shake what you know really represents God. 

15. Lie to the people about God’s man.

He says that Hezekiah removed God’s altars. [He didn’t; he removed the altars to the false gods.]

II Kings 18:4 He removed the high places, and brake the images, and cut down the groves, and brake in pieces the brasen serpent that Moses had made: for unto those days the children of Israel did burn incense to it: and he called it Nehushtan.

16. Promises, promises.

II Kings  18:23 Now therefore, I pray thee, give pledges to my lord the king of Assyria, and I will deliver thee two thousand horses, if thou be able on thy part to set riders upon them.

 24 How then wilt thou turn away the face of one captain of the least of my master’s servants, and put thy trust on Egypt for chariots and for horsemen?

           

         Sennacherib has already proven that he can’t be trusted. Even so, he tempts the people: If you have 2000 riders, I’ll give you 2000 horses. But you don’t have them, nor does your ally Egypt!

17. Claim it’s a word from God.

II Kings 18:25 Am I now come up without the LORD against this place to destroy it? The LORD said to me, Go up against this land, and destroy it.

         I want to caution you: watch out for psychics. Be wary of people who say they’ve heard from God but say things against God’s principles. Compare everything with scripture, even this bible study!

         Judah’s tormentors say they’re on a mission from God. From the rest of the account, we know that God didn’t tell Assyria to destroy Judah.

18. Use words the people will understand.

 II Kings 18:26 Then said Eliakim the son of Hilkiah, and Shebna, and Joah, unto Rabshakeh, Speak, I pray thee, to thy servants in the Syrian language; for we understand it: and talk not with us in the Jews’ language in the ears of the people that are on the wall.

         Listen: not every thought you have comes from God. Not every thought you have is yours. Those instant wicked thoughts sound like your words in your head, but they are not!

         Some examples: Drive into that tree. Take that trinket. No one will see. What if my husband/child/parent dies young?

         When I get those thoughts, I tell that thought to buzz off in the name of Jesus of Nazareth. I treat those thoughts like the enemy, because they are. Thoughts that bring anxiety and dread are from the enemy. Always.

         On the other hand, a warning from God comes in wisdom, gentle urges or commands. The warning may be insistent, but it shouldn’t lead you into fear and anxiety. Thoughts that warn but are wise or that invite wisdom tend to be Godly. This does require discernment. Happily, God loves to grant us that kind of wisdom and discernment through his Holy Spirit.

         James 1:5-6 says:

James 1:5-6 If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him. But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering. For he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed.

21. Claim the right to speak.

II Kings 18:27 But Rabshakeh said unto them, Hath my master sent me to thy master, and to thee, to speak these words? hath he not sent me to the men which sit on the wall, that they may eat their own dung, and drink their own piss with you?

            Rabshakeh claims that because his master sent him, therefore he has the right to speak. Look what else happens in this verse. His words do the following.

22. Divide the master from the peons, the king from the people.

         To me, I'm hearing the beginnings of class warfare. He says it's not the royalty who will be eating feces and drinking urine.

23. Threaten in the physical and in the spiritual.

         Rabshakeh threatens the people with famine.

         Rabshakeh threatens the people with thirst.

         Rabshakeh threatens the people with uncleanness.

         Remember that they had positioned themselves by the conduit of the upper pool in the highway of the fuller’s field. He says they'll be eating feces and won't be able to wash!

24. Use volume.

II Kings 18:28 Then Rabshakeh stood and cried with a loud voice in the Jews’ language, and spake, saying, Hear the word of the great king, the king of Assyria:

         Rabshakeh won’t shut up, and he’s getting louder.

           

25. Exalt the wrong king.

         Here’s that “the great king” again.

26. Question the motives of God’s man.

 II Kings 18:29 Thus saith the king, Let not Hezekiah deceive you: for he shall not be able to deliver you out of his hand:

         In verse 29, he tells the people to not let Hezekiah deceive them. He'd love them to infer, "Why would God’s man deceive, unless he isn't really God’s man?"

 27. Erode trust in Hezekiah’s abilities.

 II Kings 18:30 Neither let Hezekiah make you trust in the LORD, saying, The LORD will surely deliver us, and this city shall not be delivered into the hand of the king of Assyria.

           

28. Erode trust in God’s abilities.        

29. Even MORE promises, promises.

 II Kings 18:31-32 Hearken not to Hezekiah: for thus saith the king of Assyria, Make an agreement with me by a present, and come out to me, and then eat ye every man of his own vine, and every one of his fig tree, and drink ye every one the waters of his cistern: Until I come and take you away to a land like your own land, a land of corn and wine, a land of bread and vineyards, a land of oil olive and of honey, that ye may live, and not die: and hearken not unto Hezekiah, when he persuadeth you, saying, The LORD will deliver us.

         Rabshakeh promises that with surrender, the people will be allowed to have all the grapes, figs and water that they have been missing while locked in the city. Rabshakeh tells them after that, it won’t be like they've been taken into captivity. It’ll be more like a vacation. Life in Assyria will be just like life used to be in Judah.

30. Equate God with weaker gods/idols. 

II Kings 18:33-35 Hath any of the gods of the nations delivered at all his land out of the hand of the king of Assyria? Where are the gods of Hamath, and of Arpad? where are the gods of Sepharvaim, Hena, and Ivah? have they delivered Samaria out of mine hand? Who are they among all the gods of the countries, that have delivered their country out of mine hand, that the LORD should deliver Jerusalem out of mine hand?

          He says God is no stronger than the others. I don't know a single Christian who hasn't asked that question. Is God really strong enough? is He able? does He want to help me? does He even care?

          I am here to tell you yes, yes, yes and YES.

          Until next time, start thinking about your own circumstances. Are you hearing echoes of Rabshakeh's taunts in your life? Start writing them down. When you identify them, it will be easier to pray through them. 

        Let's pray right now. Father God, please direct us with Your Holy Spirit. Please speak Your truth into the lies we've been hearing. Forgive us for thinking Fear is more powerful than You are. Show us Your ways and free us from Fear. In Jesus' name, Amen.