" T h e B i r d ' s S o n g "
Near my home, there are wooded areas scattered throughout and around the neighborhoods. This morning's walk took me through those quiet woods. It was clear and cool outside, and the sun was just beginning to wrest control of the sky from the night host. As I walked along in the hush of the early morning, I began to hear the clear and beautiful song of a bird. Arrested by the sound, I turned my wondering eyes upward to the trees in search of the singer. The dawn's delicate light, and the thick canopy above conspired to hinder my search.
But, at last I found her. There, out on the end of a branch up near the top of a majestic red oak she sat facing outward, singing with what seemed to be all of her heart.
I stood there for a while just listening and thanking God as my eyes welled up with tears and my heart welled up with the revelation of how awesome He is, even in one as small and frail as this little bird. As I listened, I began to hear her repeat the same chorus, again and again. There was a consistent order, tempo and pitch.
By now, there were other sounds joining the morning chorus. There were other birds flying in and out of the trees. A big black bird flew into the tree in a desperate attempt to escape the two smaller brown birds swooping and diving after it. But the singing bird continued her song, a song that called out through the cool morning air. She would not be distracted by the clamor around her.
And then I thought of my own life, and how lately I've been seeking a new and richer expression of praise and worship. I thought, yes . . . "Holy are You Lord" and "Worthy is The Lamb" are awe-inspiring proclamations, but shouldn't there be more? Shouldn't I have more to say to my Father . . . the Father of all creation?
Then I turned my attention again to the bird's song and I thought . . . it may be the only song God gave her, yet she seemed honored and duty-bound to share it.
Maybe "Worthy is The Lamb" in it's beautiful simplicity is enough. Maybe God stops to search for the one whose broken and contrite heart cries out "Holy are You Lord", just as I had stopped to search for the Author of the beautiful, simple morning song of a bird.
