The Wren Still Sings
by Pamela R. Blaine

It was one of those rainy and dreary spring days.   Although it wasn't extremely cold, it seemed that the wind caused a chill to come over me.    It was the kind of weather that after a few days of it, my mood began to match the gloomy climate.

I had finished my chores and was hurrying as fast  as I could to get back into the warm house and out of the continuous drizzle when I heard something.  I ran on inside the back door to get out of the rain  but I turned and peeked back out the screen door.     I wanted to see if I could discover the origin of  the
lovely sound that I was hearing.  As I listened, I heard the sound again. 
I looked over toward the lilac bush  and there sat a little wren that had made her nest
in the tomato juice can that Mom had hung in the bushes years ago. 
The wind was causing her house to sway and the rain was coming down harder than ever.
Yet, she seemed to look upward as she held on  tightly with her tiny bird feet
to a small branch and continued her sweet musical solo.  Although her world was shaken, the wren still sang.

Perhaps we could take a lesson from the birds and learn to make our nests, feed our young, and sing to God.   The birds don't ask for better nests or even
better material for nests.   They don't complain about their lot in life, but they take what God has given them  and then they do their best to create
something beautiful with it.

I have always enjoyed watching birds.    I delight in the brilliant red of the cardinal,  the beauty of the bluebird, and the unique touch of red on the red winged blackbird.

The birds each have a special song of their own to sing.   Some have a very brief series of chirps while others have a whole chorus to perform. 
The Whippoorwill seems to sing her name while the quail simply calls his "bob white".

I have a tiny hummingbird's nest that is a work of art.   It is so small and beautifully made that I wonder  at the perfection of this wee bird's creation.
It is completely round and about the size of silver dollar.   The outside is foundational with the rougher pieces of sticks and materials at the bottom of
the nest.  Gradually, the materials become softer until the finishing touch
on the very top of the inside of the nest is covered with a soft layer of hair and fur.

The birds around us are all different  yet they don't seem unhappy with their
plumages nor do they try to look like other birds.     The sparrow doesn't rush right out to get his feathers dyed red to look like the cardinal nor does the robin try to peck away on a tree like the woodpecker.

The birds seem to be very content as they sing, fly,  and work at their job of being a bird.  It doesn't seem to me that birds have much trouble with being happy.     It must be because they trust their heavenly Father.   They don't worry about life... they just live it.   The birds neither sow nor reap yet
God feeds and takes care of them and we are told that WE are of so much
greater value than the birds.

The wind, rain, and the storms of life happen to people as well as to birds,
but let's try to look up when our world is shaken too,  and remember that the wren still sings!

"Do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear.   Life is more than food, and the body more than clothes.
Consider the ravens; They do not sow or reap,  they have no storeroom or barn;
yet God feeds them... and how much more valuable you are than birds!"    (Luke 12:24)

By Pamela R. Blaine, © April 2004