Letter to a Mother Bird

Barren nest photo by Bev Wauer

Dear Mother Bird,

I'm sorry that I broke your egg. I didn't mean to do it.
Climbing up to see it's safe,
And now, you know, I rue it.
I really think it fascinating- God's great artistry
Masterpieces in small twig bundles
Nestled in a tree.

I know I disobeyed my mom. She's told me this before.
"Holding bird eggs in your hand is not what they are for."
Yes, I know that I was wrong.
And I would have asked permission.
But you were not in bush or tree.
Least ways, not that I could see.
And Mommy wasn't standing there to make sure I held true.
No little sister hanging 'round to make sure that she knew.
Left on my own, I made a choice, and no one had to know.
"It's a rule for those inept, as I'm about to show."


I worried maybe you had gone and flown away for good.
And left that tempting bright blue egg in the tree branch where I stood.
It was pretty, it was dainty, and the breeze began to blow
I fretted that your nest might fall
And, since I am in-the-know

And a self-described authority on what is good for me
I helped myself, and helped you too
Until I bumped my knee
On that smallest little branch there- right in the shady crook
I promise, it was accidental, that my egg-handling hand so shook

I dropped your unborn baby right there at the tree's base
And I cried and cried and whimpered to imagine your sweet face
Disappointed, downcast, crestfallen
Chirping me my shame
How could I be so selfish as to play this dangerous game?

I saw, I took, I held
I carried it around
I was in complete control
I thought-
But then I found
I could not control the gravity
of earth or action wrong
And now, I'm sad that no one
Will ever hear your baby prophet's song.

You long to gather up your chicks
To hold them close and safe
To give them comfort- Presence,
Words of life, and grace.
Your home is now left desolate
Abandoned, as it were.
There's no one home to break the morn
With messages on the dew.

I can't undo what I have wrought
That tears my heart in two
Irreparable, the sin, that I've committed against you.
Resuscitation, Elmer's glue, a bit of tape and twine
It doesn't fix the life that's gone
And the blame is squarely mine.

What can I do to make it right?
To bring life back from the dead?
Mom and I stand here looking down
And I wonder in my head.
If maybe she had warned me, and told me to obey
Because she loves and cares for me, and cares about you too.
And she understands there is no way
To undo history.

Not with human skill, at least.




“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones God’s messengers! How often I have wanted to gather your children together as a hen protects her chicks beneath her wings, but you wouldn’t let me. And now, look, your house is abandoned and desolate."


He will swallow up death forever.
The Sovereign LORD will wipe away the tears
from all faces;
he will remove the disgrace of his people
from all the earth.
The LORD has spoken.

I Have Trouble With Forward Motion

Recent events in my life have had me thinking about this song by Relient K, one of my hubby's favorite bands. And this song, for some reason unbeknownst to anyone but God, makes me think of Abraham. The guy sometimes just had a hard time connecting his identity as a chosen one with his decisions about how to move forward through life.

cause forward motion is harder than it sounds
well every time i gain some ground
i gotta turn myself around again

Kind of reminds me of someone else I know who's had some recent events in her life.

Completely outside of that, life in this fallen world offers up it's own "delightful" set of stumbling blocks. Often one right after the other.

too many turns have turned out to be wrong

Abraham had a bit of trouble with forward motion.
I suppose that meeting the Creator God Almighty for the first time ever and only sharing a relationship with Him for a few short decades makes it understandable that he'd stumble a bit here and there. When you're just getting to know The Great Mystery of the Universe you might take one step forward, two steps back. Frequently.

4,000 years later, I have the benefit of the complete revelation of Scripture, the presence of the Holy Spirit, the redemption and inheritance of Jesus Christ. I don't have the excuses Abraham might have had. But, like Abraham, I've got trouble with forward motion.

Praise God that His grace and favor are granted to me, measure upon measure.
Praise God that He is ONLY forward motion. No stopping to smell the roses (ok, well maybe, just because He created them and they give Him pleasure), no dithering, no weighing the options, no veering to the right or to the left, no looking over His shoulder longingly at what might have been.
Praise God that it is this same power and determination that is made strong in my weakness.

it's good to
to experience the bittersweet
to taste defeat
then brush your teeth

Because Jesus knows I am made of mere flesh and will struggle with forward motion until Kingdom Come.
Praise God that He's the one moving me forward. In spite of myself. Until Kingdom Come.