Skip to main content

birdsong


this morning as i was stumbling from the kitchen to the living room couch, clutching my coffee mug like it was my last hope, i heard something that roused me from my sleepy morning ritual: a birdsong.  it was full-bodied and warm, like this bird alone had decided to take a stand against winter's domain.  it rang in my ears, yes, but my heart also, calling me back to life.  and she kept singing her life-melody, her loving and fighting song, as the soundtrack to my morning meditations.  it was truly a life-giving moment for me: the courage of such a little creature standing up to the surrounding cold and singing itself into life.  i was inspired.  i want to sing my own songs of life and hope and courage, no matter how cold it seems. 

i often sit in this very spot early in the morning, when the din of morning public broadcasting children's shows hasn't started yet.  it's my place, my sanity, my breathing space.  and very soon it will be accompanied by the sounds of several birds - a chorus of creatures lifting their tiny voices in praise of seed and summer.  but will i hear them?  i mean, will the miracle of birdsong soon become too commonplace for me to notice anymore?  i'm afraid it's likely, and a matter of sooner rather than later.  the miraculous melodies of joy and courage will soon become background noise and -dare i even say it - clatter and distraction.  and it's not just birdsong!  how many other miracles of life do i miss simply because they have become mundane? 

and so, as i sip my warm coffee this morning, i resolve not to be too busy or distracted to miss the miracles of spring this year.  we've all been complaining about the snow and the cold, and so it is only right that we enjoy the unfolding of bud and branch.  so listen with me!  listen for the symphony of birds.  listen to the grass pushing through the wet earth.  listen to the colors being born again.  listen to the creaking of the days as they expand into the evening.  listen to the trees as they learn to wear their new clothes and clap with joy.  listen to spring this year so you don't miss the miracle all around you. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

#thoughtsandprayers

i made these comments and prayed the following prayer at one of our worship services at SPWF yesterday, and had a few folks asked if i would post them, so there they are: 
It has been a season of terrible tragedy.  And I have noticed in the news a trending phrase: thoughts and prayers.  It even has its own hashtag on twitter and other social media, but net necessarily in a good way.  People are understandably tired of hearing about others’ thoughts and prayers, when that is only a thinly-veiled way of saying that our only obligation to those who suffer is a brief moment of silence, or nothing more than a tweet or public statement.  The truth is that, for those of us who follow Jesus, much is required when our neighbors suffer.  We are called to do justice where we can, to love kindness and mercy, and to walk with God through it all.  But let us be careful not to throw out the proverbial baby with the bathwater.  We are, as people of faith, those who know that prayer is not simply an em…

a divided tree

there is a tree in my back yard.  i'm pretty sure it's an oak tree.  at least that's what i think Shannon told me.  i don't know my oaks from my maples, my elms from my locusts.  to me, it's a tree: a corinthian column bursting up into life and glory.  full of sap and pulp and rings and bugs and cells pulsing with water and always reaching for something.  it is full of rhythm, reach and flourish then fall and die, and repeat. 

this particular tree, though, isn't of one mind. 

half of it's rusted orange leaves have given up their grip and surrendered -gracefully or not - to the pull of gravity and the threat of winter.  the north side of this inauspicious oak is just about bare naked, all sticks and straight lines, a skeleton of itself.  but the side that looks south is stubbornly resisting change.  no longer green, the leaves have compromised their summer vibrancy, but they are clearly not ready to concede death just yet. 

i feel like i can relate to this …

thankful right now

"if the only prayer you ever say in your life is 'thank you,' it will be enough." -Meister Eckhart

"thanksgiving is inseparable from prayer." -John Wesley

i've been thinking about gratitude quite a bit this week, and how to foster a thankful spirit in the midst of the barrage of bad news that for me is punctuated by yet another "breaking news" notification on my phone, interrupting the busyness of my day to rudely remind me that the world's brokenness knows nothing of limits or boundaries, not to mention my schedule or sanity.  still, the bad news keeps coming. 

i just scrolled through my most recent notifications just from the last few days and they contain phrases like "crimes against humanity," "57 million users hacked, but not reported," "alleged pattern of sexual abuse," and "extremely disturbing," just to name a few.  how am i supposed to be present at a staff meeting when my phone is buzzing …