I love this time of year; and I love this time of day. The chair where I do my scripture reading and prayers is also the room with the most windows. We have them opened, during this season. Outside the window there is a continuous course of birds, singing their songs.
Papa and I were sitting on the front porch, at the end of the day on Friday. They were chirping then, too. He and I talked of the individual songs, trying to identify the bird.
There are passages of scripture which ask us to consider the birds of the air. Those verses encourage us to learn from the birds the extent of God's care. "They do not fret," so why should we. Surely God will look after us also.
I can't say I know what tasks or chores or joys lie ahead for those birds. And I can't say for sure that their day is made lighter by the songs of which theirs is but one. But sitting in my chair, searching scripture for words of hope, listening to the voices in the trees, my day begins with a greater calm and assurance.
I hope I can remember the sound of those birds. I want to keep the sound fresh in my ears. Certainly I will remember these feelings and these assurances of God's continuous presence and oversight.
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