Four young hands pressed against two old windows.

Four eyes looking,

watching,

two hearts pondering,

learning.

Two small, feathered foul, joyfully darting back and forth, singing and singing to each other with calls.

Under the carport.

Into the pickup’s back side.

Disappearing into small openings, atop and inside

the metal, truck-bed walls went the very small birds with the calls.

One bright-child’s eye catches a detail not yet seen before, his finger pointing at the truck door, as the chirping sounds, as they flutter ‘round.

Look. One beak carries bits of hay and grass,

while the other a treasured piece of floss holds fast.

A nest. A home. Shelter from the storms. Working together. Happiness.

Two small noses pressed hard to the glass, amazed at the quickness, purpose and plans.

The three of us shared a moment just then.

Time stood still, and our hearts were warmed and filled until when…

A tall familiar figure walked by.

He was determined and quick with purpose and plan through the room to the carport, KEYS IN HAND.

Crowns of hair were kissed

as goodbyes were given at least

until the dusk when his return comes to pass.

He was off to work for the day and quite on his way.

I jumped through the door that led to the carport,

under which the truck sat parked.  And, frantically, I spoke….

I spoke of purpose, of love, of effort and work.

Oh, and of future speckled tiny eggs that were sure to come forth.

All the while four small hands pressed against the windows,

four eyes looking,

watching,

two hearts pondering,

learning.

I pleaded and implored, and pleaded some more.

For the nest. The home. The shelter from storms.

He stood and he paused as he unlocked the truck door.

He shrugged his big shoulders then paused a bit more.

“These birds, though God’s creatures, have chosen so poorly,

to put all their resources in a home that was meant to leave here, surely.”

His words hovered and met

with my heart’s deepest regret.

Sympathies churned as these darling creatures had earned…nothing.

“How could I be upset?” I thought. “How should I feel?

Dreams knowingly invested in a house built on wheels.”

Watching the turn signal blink, blink as he drove ‘round the corner,

two little birds appeared filled with panic and wonder.

All the while six small hands pressed against the old windows.

Six eyes looking,

watching,

three hearts pondering,

learning.


If we could only be as smart as the birds that wisely built their home around God’s presence, raising our families according to his plan, instead of like the foolish ones who built everything around a cool pick-up truck. Boy howdy!

Psalm 84:3New International Version (NIV)

Even the sparrow has found a home,
and the swallow a nest for herself,
where she may have her young—
a place near your altar,
Lord Almighty, my King and my God.