She chose every twig, blade of grass, and feather thoughtfully interweaving tendrils and twigs. She drops a feather in for comfort. The nest sturdy but delicate. Secure yet cozy. Designed by inspiration.
Built to endure ferocious winds and costly gales, the nest will prove it's strength. Invisible threads well knit, mock the winds that threaten destruction. Gusts and gales tantalize and twist, testing the weary, bending the strong, breaking the weak. The birdhouse that houses this little nest is tossed, torn completely off it's pole leaving the nest in a precarious position upon the ground. Eventually the wind gives up the fight, claiming victory. Leaving shattered remains.
Scattered are house, pole, and nest upon the ground. Five tawny eggs lay in the hollow of the nest. Momma wren, perched high up in the tree, sings her song with passion. Is she singing praise in spite of her circumstances? Or is she beckoning the angels of heaven, pleading for a rescue? Perhaps it is only a song of desperation and distraction, trying to persuade our focus from her young. I presume it is the passion of praise.
Soon her home is totally restored. Her house is replaced on the pole, nest safe inside, house tightened and secure, stronger and more prepared for the next indignant, passing storm.
Her workmanship, the nest, was supreme, inspired, proving her giftedness. The nest survived the gales, though the birdhouse did not. And her praise endured, though she could not promise hope. She did all that she could do. She trusted the Lord with what she could not do. And help was sent her way.
Life is such, no? We have wisdom for certain things, but there are some things that are just out of our hands. They are out of our power to fix. Out of our power to understand. We must rely on higher wisdom. A stronger Being. Our confidence reaches beyond what we know to Who we know.
Scotty was the angel that came to the rescue of the little wren and her home. He stepped into her disaster and offered rescue and relief. The One that encouraged that little wren to build her nest in our little birdhouse knew that there would be a storm in her future. The One who inspired her talents to build her nest also knew that there would be a man close by that would help her with her cause. He knew that the man would have the compassion and the wisdom to be a help to that little bird. The man could not build the nest, but he could restore the home.
The Lord cares about these things. He notices sparrows that fall to the ground. He notices every sparrow (and wren) that falls to the ground. How much more does He take notice in the storms of our lives? "Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows." Matthew 10:31
Seasons of storms come. Winds blow, circumstances toss, scatter, and sometimes completely leave destruction in their wake. Could we learn from Momma wren who perched herself on one of the highest branches and stirred up a song in spite of her disaster, reaching for help with praise, hoping when their seemed to be no reason to hope?
The storm has since passed. Momma wren goes in and out of the little house. Her arias ring with vibrato . She has survived a very destructive storm. In spite of it her babies are safe. Her home is secure. She rests, rejoices, basking in her reward.