The momma robin dive bombs anyone (She’s not a fan of our dogs.) who come way too close. Poppa bird stands guard on the playscape. He’s ever-ready to protect his family while simultaneously making quick outings for their sustenance- and covering the eggs while momma bird does the same.
That- and a bottom view of a well tended nest- is the only evidence of this year’s baby robins.The tree she’s nesting in has grown too big for me to photo-stalk their family like some kind of rabid- birdie paparazzi.(I call Momma Robin Princess Kate- because I’ve been a royal paparazzi- pain the past few years.)
Over the years- momma has finally robin learned to build her nest in a safe place. (As opposed to the convenient for pictures- but egg-poaching light fixture near my door wall.) Over the years- some babies have taken flight- others have- well- not- so much. Over the same years- nests have become a constant reminder of God’s presence with me- and his tender care for me-when and where ever I am. In safety, in rejoicing, in pain, in sickness. In hospitals. In plenty and in need. At the cancer center. At dr appointments, graduations, celebrations- in my highest and my lowest moments. (So much so- I had one tattooed to my leg- so I will always have a nest to remind me- where ever I am.)
All the while the tree where momma robin has settled in- has grown. I can no longer see to snap daily pics of the eggs and their progress. (Well- I COULD if I climbed out my oldest son’s window and used my zoom lens- but I’ve learned over the same years- that doing dumb things the neurologist would frown upon, but didn’t exactly tell me not to do- only leads to trouble. Rooftop photography probably falls into that category. (Apparently, I’m growing too. Who knew?)
Here’s the thing- my bottom view and bird watch guards? Are now-enough.
Enough to remind me that He cares more for me than for birds… ” Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. Matthew 10: 29-31
Apparently more has been growing than the tree. Despite or maybe because all the mess that is my precariously perched nest of a life- my faith has grown too.
Now I don’t need to see the eggs and the babies fly off to be comforted- it’s enough to see the nest.
More and more often- I know the answer to my question- in rebuttal to the verse- “Even there my hand will guide you…” Which is of course: “Even here? ” Cause really. Here sucks…..
Is: “Yes. Even here.” Even when I feel like the nest is empty- like there is no hope. No new life. No happy ending. At least not one I can see with my eyes. Now- a glance of nest is enough. Even here.
For the director of music. Of David. A psalm.
1 You have searched me, Lord,
and you know me.
2 You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
3 You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
4 Before a word is on my tongue
you, Lord, know it completely.
5 You hem me in behind and before,
and you lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.
7 Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
10 even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
11 If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,”
12 even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
17 How precious to me are your thoughts,[a] God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18 Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand—
when I awake, I am still with you.