I'd like to share an old poem my mother hung on the wall of our home when I was a child. Now it hangs on the wall by the door in my office, where I can give it a glance when I venture in or out.
"OVERHEARD IN AN ORCHARD" by Elizabeth Cheney
"Said the Robin to the Sparrow:
'I should really like to know
Why these anxious human beings
Rush about and worry so.'
Said the Sparrow to the Robin:
'Friend, I think that it must be
That they have no Heavenly Father
Such as cares for you and me."
In Matthew 10:29, Jesus talks about the sparrows: "Are not two sparrows sold for a cent? and yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father."
Jesus continues to assure us in the next two verses, 30 and 31: "But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Therefore do not fear: you are of more value than many sparrows."
Isn't that amazing? God cares so much about me that He even knows exactly how many hairs I have on my head at any given time! I don't even care how many I have, as long as they are plentiful. Which, I confess, it getting to be more of a concern as I grow older. :o)
Let's take that example a bit further.
God cares more about me than I care about myself!
God cares more about you than you even care about yourself!
I also confess that I struggle with anxiety and fear, which I realize very well has no place in the life of a Christian. Although I do trust God with my life and the lives of my loved ones, as time passes, I am made more and more aware of the suffering and tragedies that even come to the lives of godly people. But . . . on the other hand, I am privileged to see personally and hear more of God's interventions, even miraculously, in the circumstances of His beloved children! Which brings me to a stronger faith in the realization that, as we learned last week from the song, "This is My Father's World," God is the One in charge. God is the authority, the One who holds the world together and keeps our earth in orbit. As my daddy used to say, "He (God) is the Boss!" And because "God is Love," I remind myself that He is very much aware and involved with every situation I find myself in, whether joyful or troubling . . . whether encouraging or heartbreaking.
Because of His love and power, I can trust Him to only allow as much suffering as is necessary for my spiritual growth and my eternal future life.
In the words of the above poem, there IS a "Heavenly Father such as cares for you and me."
"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, shall guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:6-7
"Casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you." I Peter 5:7
God cares tenderly for all of His creation . . . and especially for you . . . and for me.
Showing posts with label birds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birds. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
KEY #SB2: MY DADDY'S DAY
My daddy moved to Heaven eleven years ago on May 25, 2001. I still miss him dearly and would give anything for one more of his strong and tender hugs. The reason I am writing about him this week of our country's annual Memorial Day celebration is because for many years, I have associated that holiday with my father. He was a godly man who lived the Christian life before me every day, modeling for me and helping me to understand the character and faithfulness of my heavenly Father.
Daddy had great difficulty hearing as he grew older and his church did not have good acoustics, so he couldn't hear the sermons very well. But every Sunday in the summer, beginning Memorial Day weekend, his church would have a service at Sibley State Park, located west of New London, Minnesota. In the close, open atmosphere, he was able to hear every word of the of the scripture message and the singing.
I had other memories of the park also. As a child, I had camped there with my cousins and attended Bible camp on the shores of Lake Andrew (also my dad's name, by the way, though the lake was not named after him!) In fact, our youngest son, J, was nearly born there! (But that's another story. :))
Buried somewhere in my house is a big dark blue book that contains some of the history of Sibley State Park. Of course, I couldn't it find today, but I remember Daddy showing me a passage in the book that tells of the influence of his father, Ole, along with another resident known by my grandfather, who were instrumental in working to obtain permission from the state of Minnesota to purchase land for the park setting and to establish it in 1919. So this preserve was meaningful to my father, personally.
Since I'm doing a series on Songs and Birds, I recall with fondness the opening song that was sung at every Sunday morning service at Sibley Park. My family often stayed with my parents in their home on a nearby lake in the summers, and would attend the park service with them on Sundays. The opening song was "This Is My Father's World." It was written by a presbyterian minister, Maltbie D. Babcock, who was born in Syracuse, NY, in 1858. When he would leave his home for a walk along the shores of Lake Ontario, Babcock would tell others, "I'm going out to see my Father's world." Hence, the title for the poem he wrote that was published after his death in 1901, "Thoughts for Everyday Living."
His granddaughter, Mary Babcock Crawford, wrote the second stanza in 1972.
The beautiful park setting by the shores of Lake Andrew was a perfect environment for the words of this hymn and the accompaniment of the birds in the background added to the melodic delight.
"This is my Father's world,
and to my listening ears
all nature sings and round me rings
the music of the spheres.
This is my Father's world,
He shines in all that's fair;
in rustling grass I hear Him pass.
He speaks to me everywhere.
This is my Father's world;
why should my heart be sad?
The Lord is Kind; let the heaven's ring!
God reigns; let earth be glad."
This special song expresses trust and faith in the Father's provision and the knowledge that all of creation is His own handiwork. His kingly authority is over all!
Whenever I sing this song, it brings to mind caring and faithful memories of my heavenly Father . . . and also my earthly father.
Next week, we'll share lessons from the birds.
Daddy had great difficulty hearing as he grew older and his church did not have good acoustics, so he couldn't hear the sermons very well. But every Sunday in the summer, beginning Memorial Day weekend, his church would have a service at Sibley State Park, located west of New London, Minnesota. In the close, open atmosphere, he was able to hear every word of the of the scripture message and the singing.
I had other memories of the park also. As a child, I had camped there with my cousins and attended Bible camp on the shores of Lake Andrew (also my dad's name, by the way, though the lake was not named after him!) In fact, our youngest son, J, was nearly born there! (But that's another story. :))
Buried somewhere in my house is a big dark blue book that contains some of the history of Sibley State Park. Of course, I couldn't it find today, but I remember Daddy showing me a passage in the book that tells of the influence of his father, Ole, along with another resident known by my grandfather, who were instrumental in working to obtain permission from the state of Minnesota to purchase land for the park setting and to establish it in 1919. So this preserve was meaningful to my father, personally.
Since I'm doing a series on Songs and Birds, I recall with fondness the opening song that was sung at every Sunday morning service at Sibley Park. My family often stayed with my parents in their home on a nearby lake in the summers, and would attend the park service with them on Sundays. The opening song was "This Is My Father's World." It was written by a presbyterian minister, Maltbie D. Babcock, who was born in Syracuse, NY, in 1858. When he would leave his home for a walk along the shores of Lake Ontario, Babcock would tell others, "I'm going out to see my Father's world." Hence, the title for the poem he wrote that was published after his death in 1901, "Thoughts for Everyday Living."
His granddaughter, Mary Babcock Crawford, wrote the second stanza in 1972.
The beautiful park setting by the shores of Lake Andrew was a perfect environment for the words of this hymn and the accompaniment of the birds in the background added to the melodic delight.
"This is my Father's world,
and to my listening ears
all nature sings and round me rings
the music of the spheres.
This is my Father's world,
He shines in all that's fair;
in rustling grass I hear Him pass.
He speaks to me everywhere.
This is my Father's world;
why should my heart be sad?
The Lord is Kind; let the heaven's ring!
God reigns; let earth be glad."
This special song expresses trust and faith in the Father's provision and the knowledge that all of creation is His own handiwork. His kingly authority is over all!
Whenever I sing this song, it brings to mind caring and faithful memories of my heavenly Father . . . and also my earthly father.
Next week, we'll share lessons from the birds.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
KEY #SB1: SONG BIRDS AND OUR GOOSE FAMILY
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. . .
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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