Earlier this week, as I stepped out the side door of the church office and made my way to my car, I was caught by a sound – persistent chirping from the flower garden near the staff parking lot. The afternoon sun was hot and bright, and I had a meeting to get to, but I stopped and turned toward the sounds.
There, in the wooden birdhouse nestled among the blooms, I spotted a mama and papa bird hard at work. Back and forth they flitted, taking turns feeding a nest full of tiny, open-beaked babies. They moved with such purpose – no fuss, no panic, just the quiet, steady work of care. If you get a chance, stop by and see them – they are adorable!
Watching them with delight, I found myself smiling and remembering a verse of Psalm 84:
“The sparrow has found her a house
and the swallow a nest where she may lay her young
by the side of your altars, O Lord of hosts,
my King and my God.”
There is something sacred about a nest – a tiny place of safety and rest, where the vulnerable are fed and protected. These birds, in their small and beautiful way, remind me of how God tends to us. How the Spirit meets us in our longings, even when we don’t quite have the words for them. How we, too, are called to the steady work of love in the ordinary, the daily, the things close at hand.
It made me wonder: how often do I overlook what’s right in front of me because I’m consumed with what’s far beyond me? How often do I miss signs of God’s care because I’m moving too fast, or too burdened to notice?
In a world where so much feels uncertain, overwhelming, or just plain hard, these small creatures remind me that God’s provision doesn’t always come with fanfare – but it does come. Sometimes in birdsong. Sometimes in the strength to keep going. Sometimes in a glimpse of beauty or a moment of stillness that reorients our hearts.
What are you longing for right now?
Where are you being fed, or where might you need to be?
And what nests of care – however small – are already being built around you?
Let’s not miss them.