Birds of a Feather

We have been blessed with a little family of robins who nested in one of the concrete supports under our front porch.  It's been sweet to listen to the babies, to hear their cries change as they grow each day, and to watch Momma protect our front yard all by her mighty self.  We've done our best to respect her space, dashing in and out of our front door as quickly as possible, sticking to the back yard for play time, and doing our best to not hang out near the front door to spy.  This family has brought me quite a bit of joy over the past several weeks.  Even Avery has learned the different sounds of their cries, announcing, "It must be bweakfast time!"

The other night my friend Sharon texted me this picture with, "Uhhhh....  What do we do?"  She and her boys found a baby bird at the door of their apartment, too small to be on his own, hungry, crying for his own mommy and scared out of his mind.  Momma was nowhere to be found, Sharon couldn't find the nest, and after 30 minutes of waiting, Momma never came looking for him.  Gratefully, Sharon thought of something I didn't, and put the baby in a brown paper bag to keep the sensory overload from scaring him while we put our feeble little brains together.  Wait!  I have a nest!  And a momma bird!!!  OMGosh, I know what we're gonna do!

Thrilled with our plan to transplant her baby into my nest, not having a clue how we were going to do it (Wait!  I have a husband for that kind of stuff, right??), Sharon came over with the baby.  I took one look at the poor thing with his mouth wide open waiting for me to feed him, shrieking at me about how scared he was, wanting nothing more than the comfort of his nest and momma, my heart just burst.  After a few tries, Shawn was able to get the baby nestled in the nest as Momma stood by watching and shrieking at us.  I'll be honest, I hate messing with nature.  I'm always scared that I'm dooming the poor creatures to death rather than helping.  We all stepped back into the house and quietly waited as we watched through the front door for Momma to make the next move.  And she did!  We've heard everyone in the nest, we've seen Momma coming and going, and it sounds as though everyone is getting along.  Whew.  Our work is done.

On the way to church Sunday morning, I saw a lone, lost Canadian goose and dared to look at Shawn out of the corner of my eye with a smile on my face.  Shawn didn't even have to look at me to know what I was thinking:  "No!  I am NOT TRANSPLANTING A GOOSE!  And I really think Momma would think this is starting to get a little ridiculous too!"  He knows me so scarily well.

So, four paragraphs later, you're wondering where in the world I'm going with this.  Well, I have a couple different directions.  First, this nest and this family represent so much to me in my life right now, starting with new life.  This is a gift to me, something from God for me to enjoy and smile about each day amid the swirls of chaos and everything else in my life.  I need for these birds to be okay.

Transplanting the baby has also had me thinking about who is in my nest, all the people God has transplanted over the years.  I am so blessed by so many extra people, so many extended non-blood family members.  All those times God's loving hand has scooped me up from the ground and placed me back in my own nest, or in the nest of an 'adopted' family who will love me and care for me.  Those baby birds aren't birth related (we're quite certain they aren't even the same type of bird), but they are now officially family.  God has given me robins, black birds, blue jays, cardinals, and even geese over the years.  And we all fit so well in God's nest.