So I told you all
about my new bird feeder (see post: Seeds for the Soul)? Seems like some of the
birds are getting a mite picky.
The finches love
their sunflower seeds. It’s that darn wren. He seems to have developed an
advanced palate.
I have a bib my daughter used many years ago. On the front of it is the phrase: “Picky, Picky, Picky.” And she was, so it was a
perfect sentiment. Now I have to restrain myself, with every ounce of my being,
from dashing out there and throwing it on that uppity little gourmand.
Up to the perch it comes, and starts the selection process. It’s like he's on a Quality Control
conveyor belt. Especially heinous are the corn niblets. His bird
beak tips in the air like it smelled something horrid, tossing the offending
tidbit to the ground.
Pick, flip. Pick,
flip. I have quite a healthy corn crop budding under the feeder.
Rejected, buried,
reborn. Tossed aside, pushed down in the dirt, transformed into a new creation.
Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?
How many times do we
undergo the pain of rejection, loss or failure? How many times are we
buried so deep, it feels like we’ll never breathe again?
Jesus showed us that pain can be transforming. But we have to make the decision to rise up again.
She is tossed aside
by her boyfriend of three years. She thought this guy was ‘the one.’ Never saw
it coming. He says, “It’s not the same.” And it’s all gone.
She is thrown down so
hard that she buries herself in Rocky Road and old weepy movies. Her wrists invite carpal tunnel syndrome from all the texts she sends, asking
what went wrong.
It seems like the
end, but it’s really the middle, and after a while she sees that too. All the
Kleenex is gone, she’s up three pounds and her wrist’s in a splint, but she’s
ready to be reborn. It’s going to be okay. She’s going to be stronger.
The mother watches her little one stands
up for a breathless second, before he plops back down on his diaper and
starts to cry. And that’s the end of standing for about three days. But like a Baby Phoenix, he rises from the ashes of the hallway tiles and stands again. This time it's for four seconds followed by a great big grin. And the cycle continues.
1) Thrown down
2) Buried
3) Reborn
Maybe steps 1 and 2
are inevitable, but step 3 is all about choice. The worries, bad things, challenges and problems
can knock us down and bury us up to our necks. But they can’t make us reborn. Being reborn is a process that is accomplished through the Lord. We have to decide to rise and then, through our resolve to try again, God assists in our rebirth.
Labels: mercy, reborn, renewed, say yes
