Painting Revelation Blog

cardinal nest

I woke up earlier than usual this morning and made my way to our backyard hot tub with fruit smoothie in one hand, Bible in the other. Sunday before 7 is very quiet in the woods where we live. As I settled into the warm water, delighting in the crisp blue sky, I heard something unusual. Just a small sound, a snapping and a rustle of leaves. Right in front of me at the top of a skinny sassafras tree I saw a black squirrel busy at work. It scampered to nearby branches, bit off a leafy length, then darted back to the growing nest. I could hear it working hard, weaving the new twigs into the mass of leaves.

Then from behind me I heard a cardinal’s call. I turned to see a male and female perched on top of our fence, the female with a spindle of grass in her beak. The male called out again and they both flew away. When I got out of the hot tub I spied the beginnings of their nest under the wisteria vine on the trellis outside my bedroom door. The other end of the trellis held the remains of this spring’s nest. Was this the same couple? Or their offspring? I hope I didn’t scare them away.

They comfort me, these squirrels and birds. They know their place in the world. They know how to make their homes. I feel so blessed to live in the peaceful woods where I am, yet my awareness of the millions of people living in poverty, homeless, in refugee camps, sick and hungry and in squalor is always just below the surface of my mind. I am tempted to despair, to sink in guilt. Yet I remember God’s command to rejoice always, pray continually, and give thanks in every circumstance, for that is his will for us in Christ Jesus.

This weekend I was blessed to open my home—our rustic cabin in the woods—to a friend and her five children. Seeing them delight in the creek and the woods, giving them the opportunity to discover the serenity of this place, makes me feel better. But it is really the birds, the flowers, the fireflies, the steady moon and stars, that encourage me to accept my place, my sphere of influence—always with thanksgiving, always with an attitude of grace.

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