Yesterday my son, Noah, was at his girlfriend’s house when he heard a thud on the window. When he went outside to investigate he saw a small bird sitting on the ground under the window. It was stunned when he tried to scoot it away. It gave him a puzzled look, spread its little wings and gave him its best effort to fly, only to run straight into a metal fence. Noah was baffled until he saw a momma robin swoop down and land next to the little one. It became apparent that 'little bird' was learning to fly and when he first jumped from the nest he hit the window. Momma bird chirped and danced around him as if to say, “I’m right here with you, try again. I know it’s hard but don’t give up. Look at me, I’ll show you how to do it.”
I began to wonder how birds communicate flight instructions; do they have a language that lays out a "step by step" procedure for their young? Are there flying drills before the little ones leave the nest? Or do they learn to fly through the process itself? Of course I've watched enough birds to come to the conclusion they don't get much, if any, instructions before its time to leave the nest. I bet that baby bird wished it had some better instructions beforehand; perhaps he would not have hit the window. Learning to fly can be dangerous. Yet, I must admit that I don’t see many birds that would rather walk than fly. Many even soar.
It made me think back to when I was on an airplane early one morning making my last trip to see my sister, Susan. For weeks I had struggled with the idea of having to say goodbye. I sat praying, feeling very emotional. Tears trickled down my face as I hoped other passengers would not notice. Along with the sadness there was great fear of the unknown. During that time of prayer as I looked out at the billowy clouds the sun began to rise. I could sense the Lord’s presence. It was tangible. My prayer seemed more like a two way conversation as I could hear him whispering clearer than ever before. I even asked him why I was able to hear him so clearly. He responded, “You are in my presence, far above the clouds of your uncertainty.” He went on to say, “You are going on a very difficult journey, but do not be afraid. Do not fear for I am with you.” I knew instantly he was not talking simply about the trip to see my sister, yet I was uncertain what he was referring to exactly.
Recently, I have had some challenges and wished I had some clearer instructions on what to do about them. I will admit that often I feel like that baby bird trying to learn to fly. I can only imagine what he must have felt like when his momma told him it was time to leave the nest. I’ve not been down this particular road before, and often wish that I knew where I was going long before I take my next step. I want flight instructions.
Yet God calls us to live by faith and not by sight. He tells us his grace (unmerited favor and power) is enough for us. He says that his presence is truly all we need. He wants us to learn from him, to know we can trust him. Just as the little bird learned to fly by watching its mother, God calls us to keep our eyes on him and him alone. He holds the flight instructions for our every need. And unlike that momma, the Lord promises to never leave us nor forsake us. “Don’t be afraid, I am with you always."
This spring when we see a momma bird, I hope we will be reminded to keep our eyes on the Lord because it’s in his presence that we learn how to soar.
