For years I have wanted to have more time to take pictures. I enjoy it, especially taking photos of my family. (If you look at our family photos, this is pretty obvious, since I’m usually the only one NOT in the pictures. ;) ) For the first five years of Caleb’s life, I probably snapped hundreds of pictures each year. But with the onset of the digital age, I have to confess I’ve gotten terrible at actually printing the pictures out. It’s something that’s on my list to do hopefully this summer… some time.

I also told myself at the beginning of the summer, which officially started for us when Caleb got out of school in May, that I would at least try to take a few more pictures. I got the chance the other day when I saw this unexpected visitor on one of our small trees by our front door.

I had walked out to check the mail and got startled by flapping wings and a little chirp. This little guy had somehow found his way into the tree but couldn’t figure out how to leave. I assumed he had tried to leave the nest, maybe for the first time, and while gravity had helped him make it the six or seven feet from the main tree where his home and family lived, trying to get back had become a much different story.

So, I grabbed my camera and started taking photos. He still had some of the baby fuzz on his body and I could tell that not all of his feathers had come in yet, seeing the still pink, bare spots. Sitting on my front steps, I was curious how he was going to get back to his tree. He was so little and though he flapped his wings a bit, it was obvious he was scared. He chirped and chirped and I wondered who would come to his aid.

I heard them before I saw them. As he chirped, a chorus of other chirps and bird calls would answer back from the tree just a few yards away. I wondered what kind of pep talk was being given; I wondered if the mother was sitting there somewhere behind the foliage, her heart pounding as she was watching her young somewhat on his own for the first time, wishing she could bring him safely back to the nest but knowing this was a passage of life he had to figure out a bit for himself.

But life isn’t always so simple. I’m sure the birds saw the hawk before I did, but sure enough, high up in the sky, soaring underneath the puffy white clouds that day was a large hawk. The little bird was safe where he was, shielded somewhat by our roof and the greenery… if he were to try and fly and land on the ground, he might not make it.

That’s when reinforcements came in. This black bird and I think one other, started swooping in low, chirping to the baby bird and not at all happy when they saw me sitting on the porch, an innocent observer .

This could have been the mother, but I liked to think it was the father… coaxing his son, reassuring him, encouraging him that everything was going to be ok. Telling him to be patient and wait until the right moment. Reminding him that he wasn’t alone.

It was a good reminder to myself that we are never alone either. That whatever uncertainty we’re facing today, that God is watching… not from afar, but as close as He can be. Like the black bird coaxing on his little one, God doesn’t always choose to help us the way we want Him too… but if we listen to His voice, He will cheer us on and guide us where we need to go.

As fascinated as I was and as much as I wanted to see how this little story ended, I made myself go inside. The big black bird took one too many dives off the roof toward me and I knew I was more of a threat to them than a welcomed visitor. Later, when we left to run some errands the baby bird was gone. I hope he made it back into the tree. Or, maybe he just had to be encouraged to spread his wings and fly… embracing the adventure of life from his Creator.

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