It seems like only yesterday I wrote my post, Nesting in the Rafters, about the birth of two exquisite baby birds hatched in the outdoor speaker at my home. This morning when I was walking through my kitchen, I heard a call. It was a cross between the pitiful, hungry, high peep of a baby and the full-throated response of its parent. The sound was older than three weeks ago but still possessed an immaturity born of caution.
There it was right outside my window! The birdie had somehow managed to get out of the nest and up to the garage rooftop. It hopped and chirped, hopped and chirped, hopped and chirped, clearly looking for assistance - or at least a bit of reassurance! His wings beat furiously to get from the rooftop to the flagpole about 4 inches down. (Hop, chirp, hop, chirp, hop, chirp.) Then furiously again to the next level down past his home. He was so timid and confused.
"Now what?" I thought.
I could tell that precious baby wanted to get back to the security of his nest.
But flying down is a lot easier than flying up.
Gravity and all...
"Faith," I thought. How similar our soul trusting and leaping to this new life trying to fly. Trusting in something so wholly, instinctively, that we let go of our inhibitions and try to take off. To leave behind the comfort and familiarity of home and hearth - sometimes a job or a career - sometimes a state or a country - and venture out in faith because our hearts hear the call. To beat our wings relentlessly in the pursuit of finding our path, hopping and chirping and hoping that's enough to find us help when we need it.
Sometimes it takes fear or hurt or anger or being stuck in the bottom of that prickly nest to take the leap.
To spread our wings.
To reach for God.
Because truly when we need Him least, we often stop reaching.
But when life is challenging our very purpose, that's when we need Him most...
To help us soar.
I opened the back door, startling my baby. A quick chirp and mechanical movement of his head then off he went, all the way UP to the telephone wire at least 20 feet away. Wow! He did it!!
Fear made him do it, but his success was no less meaningful. He took the plunge and did not fall. He trusted his instincts and they led him to the sky. I trust that baby will be okay.
And just as he sings and soars free, so too will I trust my instincts...
and let my faith fly high.
Photo credit: Aleigh1223