Baby Robins

This spring, some enterprising Robins built their nest on top of our porch light.  It’s protected by the roof overhang, so that nothing can get to it.  I’ve been watching, though I can’t see directly into the nest.  I have to use a mirror.  The first time I checked there was only one blue egg.  A few days later I checked and there were four.  Then there were two hatchlings, all beak and fuzz, then, finally, all four were safely hatched.

The nest being on the porch, every time the front door is opened, if there is a parent Robin on the nest, they fly into the crabapple tree out in the front yard.  The first few times, Mama Robin, I guess, would sit there and chirp in great displeasure at this disturbance.  Now, she just flies over there and watches me closely til I drive out of the driveway.  I try to tell her that she has nothing to worry about, but I guess her “human” is no better than my “Robin.”

Anyway, Sharon, my wife, told me she could hear the little ones chirping.  I wear hearing aids and even with them couldn’t hear them if they were screaming at the top of their little voices.  Then she told me that one time when she left to go to work, she had seen the little ones.  Parent Robin was there with a worm and four little beaks were stretched out, wanting to be fed!  Of course, the parent flew away when Sharon opened the door.

Well, today I finally got to see them myself!  I was sitting in my truck, ready to leave, but I was watching Mama (?) Robin as she watched me from the safety of the tree limb.  The other Robin flew into the tree and she left.  Papa (?) Robin flew onto the side of the nest with something in his beak.  I couldn’t tell what it was. The little ones knew!  It was breakfast!  Immediately, there were four little beaks, open wide and stretched out as far as little necks could take them, wanting to be fed!

I had to laugh.  It’s one thing to see pictures of all this; it’s quite another to see it in living color, even if not close up.

Their eagerness made me reflect.  I wish we had that kind of hunger for the Word of God.  I wish I had it.  Oh, I have a “schedule” to read a certain number of chapters a day, going through the entire Bible and then again through the New Testament.  But how often is it just “routine,” to mark off, so to speak, the reading for today.  How often do I find my mind wandering, with thoughts that have little or nothing to do with what I’m reading.  Oh, I’m ashamed to have to admit it.  Here is something the God of Heaven, who loves Me and whom I claim to love, has been kind enough to give me of Himself, and I sit there, half-attentive to it, too often just “going through the motions.”

While I was in Bible college, I was introduced to a young woman at a Bible conference in a different state.  I was smitten!  knocked over dead!  We wrote.  How I waited for the mail!  I devoured those letters!  I didn’t have to have a “schedule”;  I didn’t have to just sit down and read them!  My mind didn’t wander while I read them!  They were letters from one whom I loved and whom I hoped and prayed loved me.  I wanted them!  Couldn’t wait for them!

If you’ve read my earlier post on stuttering, you know how this is going to end.  She broke up with me.  Broke me up, too.  I didn’t know it at the time, but God had someone else for me, someone just right!

Anyway, I read those letters again after this.  Funny thing, they didn’t have the appeal that they had once had.  They were empty.  The sentiments in the letters were no longer mine.  She was no longer “mine.”  I threw the letters away.

I don’t know; maybe I’m just preaching to the mirror.

Maybe our reaction to the Word is indicative of our relationship to the One who wrote it.  Maybe it’s not what it should be….  Granted, things change.  One of the Puritans said that not every day is a wedding day.  The eagerness with which I pursued my then-future wife is different from the completeness I feel now as we sit and talk about our day.  I don’t know what I’d do if that were ever taken away from me.

Job said, “I have treasured the words of His mouth more than my necessary food,” Job 23:12.  There’s some discussion among the scholars as to the meaning of the phrase translated, “necessary food,’ but I take it to mean that there was nothing in Job’s life more important to him than the word of God.

What would we do if the Word were taken completely away from us, as it is in some parts of this world, and may be in this country [the US]?  Don’t think it’s impossible.

Oh, for a heart for the Word!  just like those little robins, hungry for what their daddy had for them!

Comments? Feedback? Much appreciated. Thanks.

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