Listen to the birdies, you worrier.
Yesterday I was watching a robin in the front flowerbed as she hunted for food. I doubt she recognizes God the Father as her provider but at no point did she wail to the heavens, "Wherever will my sustenance come from?!" Maybe we give birds too much credit and attribute more faith to them than they really have: I don't necessarily believe that every sound a bird makes is meant in literal praise of their Creator. But you must agree that "panic" does not seem to factor either. Certainly if their nest was on fire or a cat was eating their babies, but that's an appropriate use of such an emotion. Fret and worry don't register in such a routine act as searching for food."I find food every day. It may take some work, but every day the earth provides for me."
The buzzword of the past year or so for me has been "worry." But when I step back and look at the situation objectively, I don't really see the necessity for worry when almost every situation I fretted about has been completed with an answer. The provision of my God can be traced not only throughout my story, but in the story of my parents, my friends, their parents - through every story that's even been told, whether it's acknowledged like by us or second-nature like to birds. The trick is to get to the point where a reliance on His answers is second-nature, even if the circumstances are less than routine. But that automatic turning to God's provision should be accompanied by an equally-immediate thanking of His intervention. As my dad always says, this is living with an "attitude of gratitude." This dispels those all-too-familiar feelings of worry as well as entitlement, seeing God's hand as a blessing rather than a thing deserved.
Quite a lesson to learn from something as small as a bird.
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