Like many people, I enjoy bird watching. We have two bird feeders, a bird bath, and a fountain feature which cascades into a small pond in our backyard. With at least half a dozen different tree varieties towering as a mini forest over our yard, we host many birds all year round. Our large picture window in the kitchen provides a virtual panoramic view of the varied species of birds visiting our yards and feeders. This offers me endless delight as I work in the kitchen, as well as opportunity for learning from these tiny messengers. Of all the lessons thus far, my favorite was the charming picture of the strange peace found in trusting God, taught to me by a diminutive goldfinch.
Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, 29 yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
Matthew 6:26, 28-29 ESV
Jesus exhorts His disciples and followers to consider the birds of the air, and the lilies of the field to grasp the truth of the Father’s care for their needs. If He cares so well for such things of little significance in creation, how much more will He care for us? But scripture also often sends us to the animal world for instruction:
“But ask the beasts, and they will teach you; the birds of the heavens, and they will tell you; or the bushes of the earth, and they will teach you; and the fish of the sea will declare to you.”
“Go to the ant, O sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise. Without having any chief, officer, or ruler, she prepares her bread in summer and gathers her food in harvest.”
“Even the stork in the heavens knows her times and the turtle-dove, swallow, and crane keep the time of their coming, but my people know not the rules of the Lord.”
The idea of considering the animals and learning from their ways is second nature to me. Growing up, I was more at home in the woods with wildlife than with people. I knew the native animals and their habits, the birds and their songs, and the various insects with their peculiarities. In all these unique qualities of God’s design in the animal world, we learn many profound life lessons.
The cornerstone of my homeschool curriculum when my children were young was learning from creation. Our studies of birds through bird watching, feeding, and composing drawings was among our favorites, as well as an extensive study of bees and butterflies. Those lessons not only brought wonder into our school room, but that wonder remained with my children into adulthood.
I suppose it has never left me either, because even now my heart remains eager to learn from every creature I encounter. Which is how one afternoon amid a flurry of kitchen activity a lesson on the strange peace of trusting God enlivened my heart while I thrilled at the sight of a tiny goldfinch outside my window.
Many goldfinches have come to the feeder closest to my large picture window in my kitchen this year. Their vivid yellow plumage delights me, as it brings an appearance of gaiety to the feeders. One afternoon, glancing out the window, I watched them come and go; too timid to land on the feeder perch unless no other birds were there.
When I took a brief break with a cup of coffee, I noticed a solitary goldfinch curled up in the space between the perch and the feeder tray, resting while the breeze rocked the feeder in the late afternoon sun.
Most birds coming to the feeder remain alert and business-like—staying long enough to get food, but skittish and fly off if other birds come or something startles them. But this goldfinch remained unfazed by anything. Facing the sun, it rested calm and content. An insect of some sort even flew into it, but it just shook its head, undisturbed and settled in again.
The gentle rocking to and fro in the breeze transformed the feeder into a cradle of sorts, my little friend dozing in the sun. As I continued gazing at the unusual sight, I was overcome with the picture of complete contentment. Drawn to remain by the window, I longed for that same ability to find contentment amid my busy days.
But as the scene extended for almost 30 minutes, another lesson unfolded for me. A lesson in the strange peace found in trusting God.
This tiny goldfinch was not in a perfect place of protection, yet it seemed to fear nothing, resting in calm repose, content for that time to be nowhere else, face lifted to the sun, as if God’s favor rested upon it. I marveled at the strange peace of the scene; strange because it was not ideal, strange because of the trust involved in choosing to rest in such a place.
How often I fail to trust God, because of focusing on circumstances or surroundings that are not ideal. Or what about the times I harbor reluctance to trust God because I can’t see a clear outcome, an outcome I want or need?
Mesmerized by the scene, I felt my body relax, my eyes close, and the comfort of that same strange peace encircle me. Then the words of Numbers 6 echoed in my mind:
“The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.”
How can you find the same strange peace in your own less than ideal circumstances?
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