I love everything about spring, especially when new life pops up all around me and exploding colors dazzle my eyes: blooming tulips and irises, bright green leaves, sparkling blue waters of the pond in our back yard and uniquely clothed birds of all kinds that frolic in our bird bath. The scent of lilacs envelopes me with pure contentment when I sit on our deck and gaze out at our yard and pond.
I love going to sleep with the windows open to feel the rush of fresh breezes and hear God's orchestra serenade me to sleep and call me in the morning to the adventures of a brand new day. An enormous chorus of frogs living in the ponds sings me to sleep, and the neighbor's roaster wakes me at daybreak. I listen for a second or two to his arrogant call, then promptly ignore his brash command and go back to sleep. When I re-awaken at a decent time, the birds have begun their thrilling melody which continues all day long.
Have you ever noticed the unique harmony of God's orchestra? I remember when my son, K, played the violin in his school orchestra, we would always drop him off early and be treated (?) to the discordant noise of all the students practicing and tuning their individual instruments. The awful sound made me seriously wonder if the concert would be worth our time. But when the musicians paraded onto the stage and seated themselves in proper order, and the conductor raised his wand, a magic moment resulted. Every piece fitted into its place in the whole composition and a beautiful entrancing melody arose from the earlier confusion.
Isn't it amazing how God conducts His orchestra? I hear the sounds all day long from dozens of different birds, all singing their own particular tune and yet the resulting music never sounds discordant! Their combined melody is always perfectly pleasant and enchanting to my ears. How does God do it?
I want to be a part of God's orchestra. I want to "sing" my own particular tune that God put in my heart in a way that honors Him . . . to go through life day by day praising Him for His care and goodness. Father, make my "life melody" a joy to Your ears and help me to be an encouragement to others so they will only hear pleasant "music" from me, rather than discordant sounds.
Today, I will begin a summer series on Songbirds . . . or rather "Songs and Birds" and how God speaks to us through both.
We have one goose family residing in our pond that we believe made their summer home with us last year, too. My husband, Gary, is somewhat of an authority on nature, with birds a particular interest. And, although he is getting more and more hard of hearing, his eyesight amazes me! He calls me to look out at a bird hundreds of yards away. I can barely make out that it is a bird, and yet he can tell me what specific bird it is, and all about its habits that he has meticulously observed. I get running updates on our little goose family during the day. Did you know that geese mate for life? One male and one female begins their "marriage" and stays together. Mommy Goose (not Mother Goose) sat patiently on her nest for weeks. Although Gary told me she had a daily habit of leaving her nest early in the morning (while I was still in bed) and take a dip in the pond, preen her feathers for a while (here he would give me a pointed look, knowing I could identify with this bit of daily feminine vanity.) Then back to her "work" while Daddy Goose skirted the perimeters of their habitat home to ward off any possible danger. I'd hear of Daddy's courageous escapades which involved chasing away predators from Mommy and their precious developing bird babies. Once Daddy Goose got carried away with his defensive duties and invaded another bird home only to get chased back himself!
How exciting when the time arrived, just a week before Mother's Day, as four tiny yellow balls of fluff were observed staggering and stumbling in the grasses by the side of the pond! Then they disappeared for a while and we grew concerned for their safety. But Gary decided Mommy Goose was hiding them until they grew larger and more competent. Eventually they returned to swim, "file style" on the clear waters. Once he told me the baby geese were swimming on one pond and Mommy and Daddy were in the other pond, honking wildly at each other. I can imagine their conversation: "I thought you were looking after the little ones!" "I thought that was your job today! Where are they?! Go find them!!!"
Another morning, I arose to find Gary excited about a near disaster. One rebelliously independent, tiny ball of fluff had been spotted slowly and with difficulty making its way up the hill towards our house, evidently unobserved by its parent geese. But observed by our dog, Krissa, who is typically a very sweet, quiet, gentle and well-behaved member of our household. However . . . she is by instinct a good bird dog. Fortunately Gary was able to distract Krissa while the tiny fluff ball maneuvered its way cautiously back down the hill to safety. Whew!
That's enough "bird talk" for today.
Please join me next week as I observe Memorial Day in a unique, personal way. . .
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