It was sitting there on the grass beneath a tree, a likely victim of early morning winds. But it was still perfect. All the dried weeds woven tightly in a circle. A soft cushion in the middle for cradling eggs. A work of nature. A work of art.
I put the empty nest in my bag and gingerly carried it around all day so I could show it to my household of curious boys. I marveled at the expert weaving and at the care that went into preparing a welcoming home – a home strong enough to withstand a great fall.
A day later, winds blew at my house, too. Some of the hardest we’ve seen. Ours is a home built on love and trust, and also on post traumatic stress and attention deficit disorder. We have wonderful times, and we have times when dark memories threaten to temporarily eclipse the light of hope.
Those memories, those feelings of not being worthy, created a storm that day. It felt like our nest was loosening a little from the branch, like maybe our walls weren’t quite high enough or thick enough to keep the bumps and bruises of life at bay. We had little choice but to hold on and to trust the one whose eye is on the smallest of sparrows. The one who taught the birds of the air to gather and weave.
It’s hard when the nest is swaying to remember scriptures and hymns, to remember that the storm will end and its rain bring healing. I’m glad I carried the tiny nest home because it became a reminder, a symbol, to me in the days after.
I look at it and know that I need to keep weaving in threads of confidence and self-respect. I see I need to cushion my family with the kind of love that is steadfast and devoted. And I’m reminded that I need to hold tight and trust.
His eye is on the sparrow and I know he watches me.
If you are reading Rooms with us, remember that Alpha & Omega Parable Christian stores in Penfield and Greece are hosting discussion groups at 7 p.m. July 10, 17, 24 and 31, and you can visit with the author, James Rubart, at 7 p.m. July 25 on the Simply Faithful Facebook page.