Hedges, Helmets, and the Gila Woodpecker
- Kevin Burrell
- Oct 10
- 7 min read
We recently upgraded our home security system. The technician who did the work said that our keypad was so outdated that it was probably older than he was, and I believe him. The cryptic buttons, set within a cracking-plastic faded-yellow housing, never made any sense to us, and troubleshooting always required a consultation with an ancient user’s manual — a scanned PDF not easily found online. “To reset the clock, hit 7-7-4-3-down-up-pound.” Of course. So intuitive. Trying out our new touch-screen interface felt like moving from a Palm Pilot to an iPhone. Would-be intruders beware; we actually know what we’re doing now.
The upgrade, naturally, got me thinking about Gila Woodpeckers.
I’ve never actually seen a Gila Woodpecker (the G is pronounced as an H, in case you gadn't geard), since I’ve never had the opportunity to bird the American Southwest and Western Mexico, where the bird resides. But I’ve read about this famed desert bird and its unique home of choice. While most woodpecker species bore out holes in large trees, the Gila addresses the desert’s deficit of forests by embracing its abundance of giant saguaro cactuses.
Drilling into a cactus has its pros and cons. For example, the fleshy walls of a cactus make for a very slimy hole, and “squishy” is not the sort of word you want to see on a Zillow real estate listing. So the Gila has to plan ahead, drilling holes months in advance of nesting season so that the walls have time to dry out and harden into an up-to-code home.
On the other hand, the obvious benefit is home security. You’re living in a cactus; that certainly has to curb potential break-ins, right? I read that somewhere, actually — that Gila Woodpeckers choose saguaros for the sake of deterring predators. That makes logical sense. If you surround your home in painful thorns, you’re unlikely to get uninvited guests. For instance, there's a tangled mess of thorny catbrier encroaching on my backyard fence, which I truly despise, but my neighbor — a knowledgeable gardener and landscaper — tells me, “Hey, no one’s sneaking into your house through the back yard.” Silver lining, I guess.
I googled the cactus-as-a-deterrent theory, however, and discovered quite a different story. It turns out that plenty of predators are willing to risk a few thorns to enjoy an entree of Gila Woodpecker. Rat snakes. Hawks. Foxes. Gopher snakes. Owls. Kestrels. Racer snakes. Coyotes. Bobcats. Did I mention snakes?
A saguaro cactus is as good a home as any, I suppose; in the desert, there aren’t many other trees to choose from, and in some places the cactus is the tallest thing around (height is a good deterrent too). But maybe those spiny thorns aren’t providing the sort of protection a Gila would have hoped for. Plenty of critters seem to be slipping past those defenses.
A Hedge of Protection?
Have you ever wondered why Christians often pray for a “hedge of protection”? You’ll hear the phrase regularly at prayer meetings and before road trips. The phrase isn’t exactly in the Bible, but the origin is likely Job 1:10, where Satan accuses God of bubble-wrapping Job in “a hedge around him and his household and everything he has.” The concept appears in other places — God is a fortress, a shield, a covering, or a strong tower. Or I’m reminded of Elisha in 2 Kings 6, praying for his servant to see the angelic army in their chariots of fire surrounding the camp. But are we really asking for God to deploy an entire brigade of angels when we pray before a road trip? I guess it depends on how bad a driver you are.
What do you picture when you pray for a hedge of protection? Jon Acuff gave this some satirical thought in his book Stuff Christians Like. “[I’ve] always found that to be an inadequate security measure… Anyone can jump a hedge… These are troubling times, and I’ve never seen a hedge and thought, ‘That thick collection of bushes is both terrifying and impenetrable.’” Of the alternative prayer shields he proposes, my favorite is the Trampoline Moat of Lions (or “T-MOL”): “You’ve admittedly got to pull insane permits to build this thing. But once you do, trust me, it’s worth it. Few things are as scary and imposing as a pride of lions that have figured out the mechanics of a trampoline.”
What does it look like for us to live under the protection of God? Cactus thorns avail little, hedges are easily vaulted, and trampolining lions are (regrettably) impractical, at least under current HOA regulations. But at this very moment, by faith in Jesus, you are already arrayed in the unfailing protection of Jesus. Here’s what I mean.
Waking Up in the Armor of God
Paul describes the Christian security system in the famous words of Ephesians 6. Drawing on the symbolism of a Roman soldier (one was probably standing outside Paul’s cell even as he wrote this), he gives us imagery in which to take our stand:
“Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.” (Ephesians 6:13-17)
The image of protection is complete, head to toe, and the analogies describe all the things that a Christian lives for: salvation, faith, truth, righteousness, purpose, and God’s word. Paul tells us to “put on” these things. But this is where plenty of teaching moves in a works-oriented direction. I’ve talked to people who use this passage as a daily morning visualization, carefully putting each piece in place. No harm in that; it’s a prayerful ritual intended to live out the day in a godly manner. But then, when hardships come later in the day, they blame their lack of preparation; “I didn’t take time to put on the armor today” or “I remembered everything except my helmet.” They inventory their preparation and try to determine where they might have headed into the day with spiritual chinks in the armor. Truly, there are Christians who live like this. They interpret from this passage that truth is study, that righteousness is behavior, that readiness is evangelism, and that faith is willpower. Do you see where the confidence lies in this scenario?
But what if it's not your effectiveness at donning the armor that protects you?
Think about it. Every piece of this imagery, starting with your very salvation, is the provision of Jesus Christ. You don’t put your salvation on or take it off. Jesus put that shiny helmet on for you already: “For he has clothed me with garments of salvation” (Isaiah 61:10). Maybe that one’s the most obvious, but the others are equally true. Whose righteousness are you strapping over your chest? Yours? Gosh, I hope not. Your best jacket is a filthy rag (Isaiah 64:6). But as a Christian, you are already, at this moment and every moment, clothed in the perfect righteousness of Christ; that same verse in Isaiah goes on to say that God has “arrayed me in a robe of his righteousness.” The belt of truth isn’t ultimately a call to live truthfully or study truth, but to let Jesus — the way, the truth, and the life, the true light, full of grace and truth (John 14:6, 1:9, 1:14) — wrap you around and hold you together. He is your truth.
Wait, what about faith? That’s at least my contribution to the armor, right? Wrong. Paul started this same Ephesian letter out with the reminder that even your faith “is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God — not by works, so that no one can boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9). And those gospel-ready feet are the sovereign “good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do” (2:10). Lastly, that sword of the Spirit — the word of God, mightier than any two-edged sword (Hebrews 4:12-13) — is living and active and needs only to be read to find its mark, never returning void (Isaiah 55:11). The sword itself, not the skill of the hand that wields it, is what wins the day.
What I’m trying to say is this, and it’s so crucial: as a believer, you are already clothed in the armor of God. The onus isn’t on you to don your armor every morning. It’s to appropriate the armor you’re already in. It’s to remind yourself each new-mercy morning, “Jesus, today I claim all over again that you are my truth, that you are my righteousness, that you are my purpose, that you are my salvation, that my faith is your astounding gift, that your word won’t return void in me.” It’s stopping long enough to realize that you are in Christ, and that — this very moment — he is surrounding you with everything that you need. It’s already there. Now live like it! The biblical exhortations to “clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ” (Romans 13:14) aren’t a work to keep you in God’s good graces, but a perfect summary of what it means to live in Christ. It’s hesitating at your front door as you stare at the pouring rain, and then remembering that you’re already wearing Gore-Tex from head to toe. So you step out into the rain, ready for anything. You’re covered.
Any attempt to cover ourselves in our own efforts and preparations will look remarkably like a fig leaf. God has made a covering for you, and it’s yours by faith in Christ: “for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ” (Galatians 3:27).
This doesn’t mean that you don’t study truth, live righteously, exercise faith, and speak forth the gospel. All these things are a part of our growth and maturity as believers. But we do them in response to God’s grace-bestowed covering, not to secure it.
And this also doesn’t mean that your life will be free from the hits and bruises the world throws at you. Jesus could say simultaneously to his disciples that they would be both stricken and secure: “You will be betrayed even by parents, brothers and sisters, relatives and friends, and they will put some of you to death. Everyone will hate you because of me. But not a hair of your head will perish. Stand firm, and you will win life” (Luke 21:16-18). You will be both assailed and anchored, both sacrificed and safe. You might even be killed, but ultimately you won’t lose a hair over it. Stand firm. Keep calm and carry on.
You don’t need the added measures of cactuses or hedges or bouncing lions. Trusting Jesus puts you spiritually secure in the armor of GOD, the armor he provides. Now go live into it.