Walking at my favorite hiking trail, I spied a large bird atop a great pine tree. Four times smaller in size was a pesky bluejay, which held its ground in the presence of the hawk. A pecking fight ensued regarding the jay’s nest of tiny eggs, and instinct dictated a need for mother to protect her helpless unborn. Without questioning or wavering, she attempted to irritate the red-tail into flying away. After some time the blue jay chased the hawk away. It dawned on me — that small creature never doubted her identity as a mom. Pastor Bob Brown wrote a booklet, “Don’t Forget Who you Are.” What a sobering possibility that men have — we can forget who we are. Are you kidding me? I can forget who I am? Yes, a bird never does, but I often do. In fact, I may have never ever realized who I…