Look at the Birds

I’ve thought about it long and hard and have decided there’s something I need to confess…

I think I’ve become a birder.

I just finished filling four different bird feeders. There’s the suet feeder, my “squirrel-proof” everyday feeder (which, let’s be honest, is more of a suggestion than a guarantee), the one filled with my “hot” treat that, mysteriously, every bird seems to love, and then my oriole feeder packed with jelly.

My sister has me hooked on the Merlin Bird ID app, so now I’m tracking migration patterns, reading the “Bird of the Day,” and recording their chirps to figure out who’s visiting at any given moment.

And then there’s me… sitting on the deck, trying to work, writing mainly, but constantly distracted by the activity at the feeders. Just now, a hummingbird danced past the trumpet honeysuckle climbing up the side of our deck like it owned the place.

I mean… I don’t even recognize myself anymore. Ha!

Lessons on the Deck

But honestly? I’m amazed at what God is showing me through something as simple as birds. If we slow down long enough to really watch them, there are lessons everywhere.

First, look at their beauty. The variety alone is breathtaking. The piercing blue of the Eastern Bluebird, the bold red feathers and sweeping tail of the Northern Cardinal, the striking contrast of the Red-bellied Woodpecker, the brilliant orange of the Baltimore Oriole, and the bright yellow flash of the American Goldfinch.

These varieties are not random. They are God’s intricate design declaring His glory in His creation.

Then consider their work ethic. From the first light of dawn to the fading of the sun, they gather, build, travel, and eat.…all while singing to their hearts delight.

And then… there are their nests. Tiny, hidden masterpieces, like little works of art you’d miss if you weren’t paying attention. Some are woven so tight you’d swear a seamstress put them together, not a bird. Others are tucked into branches so carefully, you almost feel like you’re intruding if you find one. And here’s what keeps catching me off guard about that… they don’t build them to last forever. They build them only for a season.

The beauty, the constant motion, the tiny nests built just for a season, it all keeps pointing me back to the same thing. They’re not out there trying to hold everything together. They’re just living in what God already set in motion. Maybe we can learn something from that.

• He feeds them. Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns (Matthew 6:26).

  
  

• He gives them what they need to build. Even the sparrow has found a home, And the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young (Psalm 84:3).

  
  

• He even settles them in the exact places they need to be. The trees of the Lord are full of sap, the cedars of Lebanon which He planted, where the birds make their nests; the stork has her home in the fir trees (Psalm 104:16-17).

And without overthinking, they’re taken care of every single day.

Look at the birds of the air, they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life (Matthew 6:26-27 ESV)?

More Than Just Feeders

The more I sit with it, the more I realize it’s actually pretty simple. The birds aren’t out here stressing about food supplies or what the next year will bring. They just show up, do what they were made to do, and somehow, they’re always taken care of.

They’re fed. They’ve got what they need to build. They land in places they didn’t even have to force open for themselves. And then I look at my little setup on the deck, these feeders I keep refilling like I’m running some kind of bird café, and I just think… God’s been doing this the whole time, without my help. And if He’s that attentive to something as small as a sparrow showing up for breakfast, it makes me wonder why I ever doubt He’s paying attention to everything going on in my life too.

So, look at the birds. Are you not of more value than they?

God Bless You,

Carole