Sensing God Through Birds: Three Stories
I am certain that God reaches me through birds. Only now am I grasping how for my entire life birds have revealed to me something of the Face of God. In being themselves—small, mysterious, little beings that they are—they co-create with humanity in a profound way. They are vital to global food production—to survival—on Earth. Birds are gorgeous, diverse, and carry with them deep wisdom about pilgrimage. One cannot listen to a birdsong and feel upset. In addition to everything I have already said, birds sing when we do not ask. They freely offer joy.
Now seems like a good place to insert that I am not an ornithologist. My title would more accurately be A Person Who Delights in Birds. I thought to share a few stories and offer encouragement, as bird things go.
No. 1
As a small child, I would watch out the window for birds with my dad. “Activity,” we called it. I only remember seeing cardinals. The bright red is a dead giveaway for a six-year old. I am tempted to say it was less about the birds and more about the father and daughter bonding time. But… it was also about the birds. It was about focusing our gaze on what God was showering us with in the natural world. Nevermind that we couldn’t scientifically identify most of the birds we saw. It was simply about observing and offering gratitude for life. Have you done this recently? Just gazed out your window to see what birds you see, however near or far away they are in the sky? You needn’t even identify them. Appreciating is enough.
Nowadays I have the scientific language to name a good many birds. Yet, I remain convinced that the sight of a mourning dove—the way their timely appearances really and truly feel like my grandma saying hello from heaven—is proof that birds are God’s little couriers. Is proof that the natural world is teeming with a sacredness that cannot be quantified or named, and all the better. We carry deep responsibility to protect this sacred place.
No. 2
The first reading at my wedding was from Ezekiel chapter 17. When my husband and I first heard it read during Mass, we felt a deep knowing that we were loved.
“On the mountain heights of Israel I will plant it. It shall put forth branches and bear fruit, and become a majestic cedar. Birds of every kind shall dwell beneath it, every winged thing in the shade of its boughs.” (Ezekiel 17:23)
Surely you know the relief when a cloud covers the sun on a blistering day. The language of “shade” is language for the weary. It’s language for a scorched earth or a dried-up heart. If a branch is a place of respite for a bird, then might Christ, the Majestic Cedar, be a place for me to rest? I don’t exclusively mean this in the metaphorical sense. I mean: when I rest my back against a tree, am I not with the Lord, Who is in all things?
Bryanne Devlin, @brydevlin.
No. 3
My daughter will tell you it was our Bird Miracle. She says that because I say that. Here’s the scene: On the village trail. Peak winter. Very cold. Baby inconsolable. My husband and I are arguing. He turns back with the baby, while I carry on begrudgingly with my daughter (who was as happy as a bee in a meadow), playing the tape in my head that says this experience won’t be good. And then it happens. I see two bluebirds on the branch of a tree. I’ve never seen bluebirds where I live. My eyes widen and I see it’s not just bluebirds in the tree, but chickadees, titmice, nuthatches, cardinals, woodpeckers, and sparrows. ALL the birds. We were jumping up and down with delight, my three-year old and I. She was yelling, “Come into my hands! Come into my hands!” And still they did not fly away. My self-absorption was completely interrupted by the magnitude of pure Gift.
That God could love me so much that even in my most undeserving moments He sends “every winged thing in the shade of its boughs,” is almost too much. But it’s not too much, because God is never outdone in generosity.
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A few resources for getting to know birds a little better:
BirdNote (Also available on Spotify)
Get to know J. Drew Lanham
The Bluebird Effect: Uncommon Bonds with Common Birds by Julie Zickefoose
Owl Moon by Jane Yolen, illustrated by John Schoenherr
Meet Samantha Spigos
Samantha Spigos is a mother to two, a wife, a gardener, and a knitter. She is devoted to mornings, coffee any time of day, and praying the Divine Mercy chaplet. Her goals are to knit everyone she loves a wool sweater, visit a salty body of water every year, and sainthood for her entire family. For occasional notes on everything herein, visit her at downhomeblog.com.