When I sit at my kitchen table, I have a lovely view into my wooded backyard. The recent rain and wind coaxed most of the remaining leaves off the branches of the deciduous trees and vines in the woods. Now as I gaze out the window from my vantage point at the table, I see mostly bare branches, which have a beauty all their own. I’ll watch them over the next few months, as buds swell and open to reveal leaves or flowers.
But the other morning, I had a different “show” to enjoy – the woods were atwitter with several kinds of birds, enjoying berries from the dogwood trees and the winterberry hollies. I couldn’t help but think how silent the woods were when we moved in over 20 years ago, devoid of the cheerful twitters and chirps. Our house was one of the first ones completed in our section of the neighborhood so we were surrounded by construction for several months. The noise of hammers and heavy equipment and the destruction of the birds’ habitat had no doubt caused them to flee. I’ve delighted in watching them return over the years until now, even though I’m not a bird connoisseur by any means, I can detect a number of different songs and calls when the birds are active in the early morning hours. And, now that the leaves have fallen, I can see them more easily too!
As I sat at my table and watched a tiny finch flit from branch to branch, my mind turned to Scripture and Jesus’ directive not to worry. He backed up his command with the assurance that if our heavenly Father takes care of the birds of the air and the lilies of the field, he’ll surely take care of us. (Matthew 6:25-34) I’m thankful Jesus chose simple, visible examples like this to teach us profound lessons. If we’ll take the time to truly see, we’ll be continually reminded of our Father’s great, sustaining love toward all he has made.