There’s a Celtic image of the Holy Spirit that has always stayed with me; not the peaceful dove we often imagine, but a wild goose. Not wild in the chaotic sense, but wild in the way nature is wild: free, mysterious, and deeply alive. The wild goose doesn’t follow the expected path. It moves with purpose, guided by something unseen. And when I think of that image, I think of my son, Brogan.
When Brogan was four years old, he was not loud or boisterous. He did not demand attention. Instead, he watched. He listened. He felt. He noticed when someone was sad and offered a quiet hug. He asked thoughtful questions that stopped me in my tracks. He was gentle, sensitive, and deeply curious. He was, and still at age 17, in his own quiet way, a wild goose.
In Celtic Christianity, the wild goose represents the Holy Spirit because it cannot be tamed. It moves in ways we do not always understand, but always with intention. It’s not always loud; it can be still. It can be soft. It can be subtle, just like Brogan.
Watching Brogan explore the world at age four was like watching the Spirit move through a quiet forest. He would crouch down to examine a beetle for 10 minutes. He would whisper to the wind. He would ask, “Do you think God made the clouds soft on purpose?” And in those moments, I saw the Spirit’s presence—gentle, thoughtful, and full of wonder.
The wild goose does not need to shout to be heard. It simply flies, guided by something deeper. And so does Brogan.
And here is the irony that makes me laugh and marvel at God’s sense of humor: Brogan, the quiet, contemplative wild goose, has a mother who is a full-blown honking, flapping, dancing-in-the-aisles kind of wild goose in the Spirit. I am the one who sings too loud, prays with my hands in the air, and cries at every worship song. I am the goose who doesn’t just fly; I soar and squawk with joy.
And yet, somehow, we are both led by the same Spirit. One loud, one quiet. One soaring, one gliding. Both trying to be holy.
Maybe that’s the beauty of the Spirit; it meets us in our own rhythm. It doesn’t ask us to be the same. It simply asks us to follow.
So, here’s to the wild geese in our lives. Here’s to Brogan and all those quite contemplative children. May they always follow the Spirit’s quiet call, and may I always have the wisdom to recognize, encourage, and follow them, too.
Activity: Follow the Wild Goose — A Gentle Adventure Game for Kids
Age Range: 3–7 years Time: 15–30 minutes
Materials Needed:
· A scarf or ribbon (to be the “wild goose tail”)
· Open space (indoors or outdoors)
· Optional: feathers, paper wings, or a goose mask
How to Play:
Choose the Wild Goose: One child is the “Wild Goose”—the leader who represents the Holy Spirit. (Brogan was a little shy at first, but when I told him he could lead slowly and quietly, his eyes lit up.)
The Flock Follows: The rest of the kids are the “flock” and must follow the wild goose wherever they go—tiptoeing, gliding, flapping gently, or pausing to “listen to the wind.”
Holy Surprises: The wild goose can whisper gentle commands like:
· “Float like a feather” (move slowly)
· “Rest like a nest” (curl up on the ground)
· “Look for something beautiful” (pause and point to something in nature)
Switch It Up: Let each child take a turn being the wild goose in their own way—quiet or bold, slow or fast.
A Moment with Brogan: When we played this game, Brogan led us on a slow, winding path through the backyard. He stopped at a flower and said, “Let’s all smell this one.” Then he whispered, “Now we fly to the tree.” His leadership was quiet, but everyone followed. And when we finished, he looked up at me and said, “The Holy Spirit is kind, isn’t it?” Yes, Brogan. Yes, it is.
Faith Connection: After the game, gather the kids and ask:
“How did it feel to follow the wild goose?”
“What did you notice when we moved slowly?”
“How do you think the Holy Spirit might speak to us?”
Remind them that the Holy Spirit doesn’t always shout. Sometimes, it whispers. And sometimes, it speaks through the quiet heart of a child.