No sparrow falls that the Creator does not see. The Christian scriptures (in Matthew chapter 10) go on to say that we are worth more than many birds. But in order for the comparison to have merit it is good to remember that the sparrow has worth.
I’ve taken to spending my lunch hours out on the walking trail next to the estuary by our new office space. Passing from the parking lot onto the trail feels almost magical as I step from the pavement (and away from cars and buildings and reminders of Deadlines and Ought Tos and Should Haves) to duck under an archway of branches that feels more like a gateway to another realm than a shortcut to a paved walking/biking trail. With affection I run my fingers along the bark of one of the branches that make up the gate as I eagerly enter to see what lessons await me today. Before I even make it to the other side and onto the path my attention is caught; bird song, and so close. Now I have spent the past couple of months wandering around the area and the song birds do NOT hang around when a person gets close. I pause, trying to locate where the little virtuoso is. It’s a game I play because they are so darn good at hiding, song or no. It is SO close and such a joyful song; I just want to see who is so happy. I am so busy looking for the little songster, that I almost miss the nest, hidden in plain sight, right at eye level. I mistook it for a pile of fallen detritus, such as one often sees where branches join together. This is at the end of a branch however, and when the wind blows, the whole lot sways to and fro. No happenstance collection of twigs would remain there for long. That’s when I see the tail peeking out of the leaves. I duck down and see the singer of the joy-filled song. I have a stupid human moment and lapse into bad manners, trying to snap a couple of photos of bird in nest. I mean, it’s at eye level! I do manage to regain my decorum and apologize to the lovely singer and continue on my stroll. I am almost certain, however that I hear an egg shell cracking in the silence caused by my intrusion and I feel ashamed for doing anything that would still the mother’s joy, even if only for a moment. As I head back at the end of my lunch break, I once again head to the tree and as I get ready to reenter the human world I pause for a minute to speak to the mother again and apologize for my earlier thoughtlessness. We gaze at one another for a moment and then I pass under the gateway and back to “reality”. On Fridays my roommate and I have a standing evening habit of spending time together. This Friday we plan to enjoy a picnic and I intend to share some of the awesomeness of the estuary with her. Why we plan, I do not know. Long ago, Jennifer declared our adventures NEVER go as expected. We do meet at the office as planned… After a couple of false starts, we head out to the “gate”. I want to show her the nest I stumbled upon at lunch, but when we get to the spot where the nest was, I see something horrible had happened. Where at noon there had been a cute little nest festooned with tiny flowers at the top and a joyous mamma bird welcoming her new hatchling into the world, now all that remains is the very top of the nest with the little flowers. Jennifer tries to calm me down, tries to reassure me that I had just thought there was more to the nest than there really was. But I know. And then I look down. There is the nest. Jennifer goes to turn it over, but as she does, I realize that she just missed a teeny, tiny beak with her shoe! So now here I am, weeping inconsolably and Jennifer thinks we just saw the baby breathe its last. She offers to bury it but I demand that it is still alive. She is skeptical, but a few seconds later the tiny head lifts up from the ground again. We decide we have to get it back into its nest. We try to do this without touching the baby but our efforts head toward the ridiculous. Finally I gently lift the little one back into the nest. After that, as we ponder what to do next, I fear that we have only prolonged the inevitable. We can’t reattach the nest to its branch. Eventually we settle the nest in a bush about 6 feet from the branch. It is now off of the ground and away from immediate predators, but will its mother be able to find it in time to warm it up and give it nourishment as the night quickly approaches? I may not know if the little baby has a future. I may not know what caused the nest to fall from the tree in the first place. But I do know that little Nestlé (yes we named the hatchling) brought joy. I saw mamma sing as baby hatched. Her joy brought me joy. No sparrow falls from the sky that the Creator does not see. For one moment in time I had the honor of being the Creator’s hands and heart for one such fallen beloved. And if my heart breaks for one such as this, how much more will the Creator’s heart break for me in my times of pain? Or for you? No matter how short or how long your days on this earth, you have brought joy to the world. You are beloved by the Creator. Revel in that love. Hold fast to it. Listen for those times when the Creator wishes you to be hands and heart to bind up the wounds of the beloved fallen children. And know deep in your bones that when you have fallen, the Creator is working through other beloveds to comfort you as well.
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Tammy Nelson
Just trying to make sense of what I see while passing through. ArchivesCategories |