Birds on the Brain

I have birds on the brain.

This month, two of my little birds have left Mama's nest. Flown the coop to college. Senior bird flew to a rental house near campus, where he is learning to feed himself, clean up after himself, and pay some bills. Big adult stuff. Sophomore bird flew to a brand new, state-of-the-art dorm.

I'm happy for them. Really, I am.

My nest feels a little empty now. Quiet. Too much empty space.

And then I read this quote from the book Seven Sacred Pauses by Macrina Wiederkehr.
"Each day we are summoned to be creators of the present moment. Artists know the value of white space. Sometimes what isn't there enables us to see what is. Perhaps you are being called to the spiritual practice of bringing a little of the white space- of nada- into your workday. There in that white space you will find your soul waiting for you."

I find myself with a little more white space now. More time to walk. More space to let my mind wander down creative paths. More idle hours to read and observe.

My new daily rhythms allow me more time to observe the birds. I can watch in awe as the parakeet makes his way to my feeder every day, and wonder how I will coax him indoors before cold weather comes. I marvel at the number of new goldfinch that are daily visitors. I smile at the ungainly young mourning doves and the newest batch of immature cardinals.

All of these birds rely on the steady source of food that I provide. Every morning. Every evening.

It brought to mind this verse from Matthew chapter 6: "Look at the birds of the air. They do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?"

I am the sparrow with mouth wide open, waiting for God to fill. And He provides every time. Food for the family. Money for two college tuitions. Cars and a home and abundant blessings.

I continue to feed the birds, and the Father continues to feed me. Daily bread.

Blessed.