The Song of a Bird

He talks to me from the bradbury pear tree. A loud, pure, wheer-wheer-wheer-wheer. Over and over, until suddenly I hear this cardinal through my concentration and am drawn from my pondering on evangelicalism, church, and this talk of “leaving” or “staying.”

I smile. Because whenever I fall into the murky, mind-filling struggle of trying to separate theological apples and oranges, the simple pulls me back out.

The simple song of a bird.

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Again, God uses a bird. Perhaps because I love them, God has used birds to speak to me his truths. While it may sound silly, that soft spot in my heart for these small airborne creatures is an open door for God to say, “See, look. Even the sparrow has a nest for its young.” And in those words, I hear the truth:

You are cared for. You are not forgotten. You are more precious to me than these.

Whatever your heart is bent toward today, may it be an open door for the words of Christ. May you hear his encouraging voice. Because He does care, and you are not forgotten.

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