I’m drawn to the concept that we participate with all of creation in proclaiming God’s glory, and that we are the caretakers of the earth. Theologians call this Creation Care.
I sipped the rest of my coffee as I thumbed through my textbook. The wind flickered over my pages, but I was just grateful to be outside before the weather turned. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of yellow and heard a thump behind me. There it lay on the cold cement. It strained to move, but could hardly roll over.
My heart lurched and without thinking I went to it. I can't just let it lay there.
I held it close to my chest, shielding it from the wind. What now? I thought. I gingerly stroked it's head, and reassured it that everything was fine. I suppose I talked to it the way you might talk to a puppy. I hoped the sound of my voice, and the warmth in my fingers might help.
It was incredibly stunned, but eventually came to and started looking around.
I pushed away feelings that I was doing something totally weird, and in that moment became keenly aware that God was present. Right there, with me and the bird.
I’m not sure how else to describe it. I was full of love and inexplicable joy.
There we sat, and I marveled.
The bird and I were both created to glorify God, and God was sustaining the bird and I in every way.
I couldn’t help but think that the tiny helpless bird in my hand was also a picture of me in the hand of God.
I thought of the psalmist who asked of God, Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings. (Psalm 17:8)
I reflected on the beautiful old hymn penned by Fanny Crosby,
He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock
That shadows a dry, thirsty land
He hideth my life in the depths of his love
And covers me there with his hand
But mostly I just sat there with the bird, keenly aware that the bird and I were doing what we were made to do. The bird was glorifying God by its very existence. It lives and breathes and learns to fly. It builds a nest and seeks out its food. Everything it does is an act of worship. A beautiful song of praise to the One who created it. It is magnificent.
The same goes for me and you.
Simple. Ordinary. Every day. Beautiful.
We get to join the birds, and the flowers, and the rain, and the oxygen, and live a life of proclamation.
God is good, and he has created great things. He is truly magnificent.
I eventually held my hand up, no longer in a shielded position but trying to encourage the bird to take flight.
And off he flew.
