I know that what happened today may seem so very small to the vast majority of people. I am quite aware that my love of nature, nurtured by a mother who sees God in every aspect of His creation, is unusual and quite overwhelming at times. But today, my heart hurts in a way that I simply didn't expect.
As homeowners, you become aware that your work is never done. There is always cleaning to do. Maintenance to vie for precious moments, stolen away from children that refuse to stop growing up for even one second. Trees and water have been our inanimate enemies for these busy years in the throes of caregiving with those we love the most. Following the clearing of the land around us, the dreaded pine beetles moved on to munchier ground - ergo the towering pines that inhabit our back yard.
In the midst of all this though, we have had a pair of beautiful Indian Hen Woodpeckers to take up residence year after year in the magnificent dying trees. Circle of life and all.... So when I heard the commotion outside by bedroom window, I clambered to throw on some outside worthy clothes and my trusty waders in order to check out the crash I had just heard.
Much to my amazement, the dead pine we were worried about the most had fallen in such a way that no damage was done to any property, despite landing on top of the shop it had been standing beside. Mom ran down the dusty trail to meet me at the back fence and we marveled at God's goodness in sparing our home from another tree - roof incident.
We were so caught up in the lack of property damage that we temporarily had forgotten our beautiful friends who were out on their daily task of foraging for babies totally dependant on their provision. I mean, we just knew they had nested in the other dead pine that was still standing just feet away. But as we walked into the property next door, in order to further survey the damage done, the laughter and smiles gave way to sorrow and tears.
Three of the most beautiful baby Indian Hens laid there, motionless, at the top of the wreckage now plunged to the ground. The only solace we could take was that their deaths were instantaneous as the top of the tree hit the ground first.
Being ever so in tune with their momma's emotions and love of all things living, my boys, who now all tower over me, gently held me close and just let me cry. They didn't mock my sorrow as misplaced or dismiss it as some silly overreaction to a natural event. They didn't scoff when asked to help me prepare a resting place for three tiny baby birds.
I cried for a while, thinking about the momma and daddy birds, wondering if birds feel sorrow like we do. I thought about her entire clutch being gone in one fell swoop and where they would go now. I thought about all the loss we have experienced in much a short time and the glitter of God's goodness seemed to disappear for a moment.
"Are you not worth more than two sparrows? I see when each one falls and I gave them you today so that you could take care of them, even in dying. I gave you them, though, so that you would know My love for you."
As a sit here now, I think about all of you who have come along side us the past few years and carried our sorrow. Those who have said, without words, how much you love us as you gently hold us and just let us cry. Those who never hurry us along in bearing a grief so deep that it has changed who we are. Those who never see our tears and sadness as misplaced or lingering too long. Those who continually shine a light into the darkness so that His glitter is seen. It is through you we are reminded of His deep, unfailing love for us. It is through you we are reminded His eyes are on the sparrows. It is through you we KNOW that He is still watching over us.
And it is for you that we are grateful.
