Stop and smell God’s roses
I am not an ornithologist, a dude that studies birds, nor do I know the names of but about a dozen birds, but I do enjoy them as a gift from God. I’ve been blessed again this year to witness the life cycle of a pair of birds who have nested just outside a door I frequently use at work when moving from one building to another. These are birds that build a mud nest on the side of a wall near the top of a structure close to the ceiling. Everybody probably has a name for them, but in Texas everything has a half a dozen names depending on who’s telling the story.
Anyway, the point of my blessing is, I often find myself stopping to smell the roses, so to speak. The said door is an aluminum framed glass door where I can stand and watch the goings-on of two loving partners raising their young. At their arrival this spring, last year’s nest was nearly completely disassembled, leaving only the foundation attached to the wall, whereupon the female sat as the male built a new nest around her for a perfect fit. I often wonder if the male has to deal with her perfectionist qualities. With nest built she sits and sits and sits all the while the male feeds her. Then some little heads appear, five this time, and the feeding frenzy of both parents begins. The hatchlings grow like weeds over the next month until the nest is nearly overflowing with noisy, hungry, fully winged birds. At this point the parents all but stop feeding them and start a new routine of encouraging the young birds to spread their wings and leave the nest. It’s exciting in a way to watch the young birds exercising their wings and the parents sitting on the ground chirping, “Come on! You can do it!” Then one day they’re all gone; kind of a letdown in my daily activities. About a week passed and I noticed just the other day the female is once again sitting in the nest and I suspect some little heads will once again appear with mouths flying open at the appearance of a faithful feeding parent.
[Psalm 145] I just flipped my calendar on the wall in my home office where I spend a lot of my free time. Here we are halfway through the month of June and it was still stuck on May. I’m amazed, at times, as to where the time goes. A businessman, harassed and discouraged from overwork, took his problem to a psychiatrist who promptly told him to do less work. “Furthermore,” prescribed the doctor, “I want you to spend an hour each week in the cemetery.” Shocked, the man asked, “What on earth do you want me to do that for? What should I do there?” The doctor suggested, “Not much. Take it easy; look around; get acquainted with some of the men already there, permanently. Remember, they never finished their work either. Nobody does, you know.”
Most of us get involved in so many responsibilities and affairs of life we fail to stop and smell the roses, neither do we feel we have the time to give to faithful worship to God ... no time to study and meditate upon the Word of life ... no time for anything but making a living. We find it hard to break away from our daily routine. Well, learn to break away and enjoy the blessings of God, because someday you will permanently be gone from this life. On average we only have 3,640 weeks of life in us. Tomorrow, I start my 3,397th week, but I highly plan on beating the average. Even so, the world will go right on without me as it has for countless of millions before me who never finished their work, completely. I don’t worship the creation, but I do enjoy it. No, I worship the Creator and thank Him for creation. I want to be with God one day, just not right now.
Thomas W. Bonham is an associate minister with the Floresville Church of Christ. Email him at firstname.lastname@example.org. Find his column on his blog at http://wilsoncountynews.com.
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