How often I
hear God through the activity of the birds!
This
morning, sitting in the prayer window and waiting on God, I watched in an
abstract sort of way as the smaller song birds fluttered and bounced round the
newly-filled feeders. Suddenly, I much larger blackbird swooped in, followed by
a whole cohort of blackbirds, scattering the diminutive blue tits and
chaffinches. The blackbirds fed fast and furiously and then left in a flurry,
and I watched as the small flock of tiny birds returned to the feeders in
peace.
I do love
the song of the blackbirds, so am in no way wanting them to leave our garden. But
I’m thinking of the way bigger creatures can bully their way into the places of
abundant resources, scattering the smaller and less powerful. But their time is
limited. The meek will inherit the earth.
There is
hope. The light shines in the darkness, even the darkness within me, and the
darkness has not overcome it. As the celebrations for Immanuel’s birth
approach, I celebrate that he came to and for the poor and lowly and he has not
forgotten them.
Maranatha.
Come, Lord Jesus.
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