Prayer

A flash of movement on an upper branch of the rowan tree drew my attention. A woodpecker hammered away at the wood, hoping to find nourishment. Suddenly he lifted off and flew to the bird-feeder, where there were some easy pickings.

Tried my new bread-maker yesterday, a thoughtful Christmas gift. I had to breathe deep to read the directions, do all the prep, and then struggled a bit with the electronic controls, which failed to respond to my finger’s pressure until suddenly they did. I’m sure I’ll figure that out.

The bread exuded a gloriously delicious smell all afternoon and finally pinged to indicate it was finished. Wholewheat bread: I knew it is harder to get it to rise but I thought that this machine would be the panacea, so I was disappointed with the result. Tastes fine, but next time I’ll make a large rather than medium loaf, maybe mixing the flours and hope it produces a bigger loaf.

The temptation is to fly off to the supermarket and buy what’s on the shelf, full of additives and expensive though it is. I will continue to experiment with this bread-maker, though, hoping to figure out the best way to get the result I’m expecting.

Spiritually, it’s tempting to live off the sound-bites of theologians and writers who can word things so cleverly and meaningfully. But the Lord knows what I need at this moment, and it’s as I hang with him that I receive the real food to carry me through the day. It’s called prayer, but don’t let the word put you off.

Woody

The heavy woodpecker clung to a bendy twig on the larch tree. He clung upside down, determined to get something good from the pine cone above his head. It was like watching someone do stomach crunches or sit-ups. Up, down, up, down.

Turns out I wasn’t the only one watching him. When he had eventually loosened the pine cone enough for it to come away in his beak, he flitted to the fence post top, laid it down and started to peck at it once again. But not for long. A bigger bird swooped at him, the cone fell to the ground, and both birds flitted to a neighbouring tree. 

Neither benefited from the breakfast one had worked so hard to get.

Paul wrote that we should each look out not just for ourselves, but for each other, too. We were made to help one another. Then we are all fed. Then we all prosper.

Kindness and generosity of spirit: aiming for those traits today.

Who's that Knocking?

I turned down the lane before 8. The ground was still soaking from yesterday’s relentless showers, but overhead the skies were clearing and the birds raised spring voices in a joyous chorus.

I paused because the tapping of the woodpecker was louder, closer than I’d ever heard. We see them occasionally at the bird feeder, and magnificent they are with their stylish red splotch, and I often hear them at a distance, but never before as close as this. 

Dusty passed me, sniffing out bunnies and pheasants, wondering, no doubt, what had halted my progress. I just stood looking up, trying to see the woodpecker in the tall pine. But try as I might, I just couldn’t see him.

As we carried on, I tuned my ears for other birdsongs, and I became aware of the rhythm of each call. I guess it’s obvious there is a rhythm, for without rhythm, each bird would just staccato deliver its notes and no song would be distinctive. Each is distinctive because of the cadence, as well as the notes. 

Ok, that’s all pretty obvious, but this morning I just found it so refreshing to let my mind clear and just listen to the rhythm of the morning. I let the distant sound of traffic fade, the occasional blast of overflying jets pass without notice. I stopped talking to God. Normally, I carry on a pretty constant monologue with my Maker as I walk, bringing before Him all those I love and for whom I am concerned. 

But this morning I closed my mouth, and listened.  It was the sound of the feathered chorus in the trees that captivated me.

How often does God long for me to just ‘be’ in his presence. To listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat. To rejoice in the beauty of his creation. To be refreshed by him.

But I babble on. Sorry.