Singing After the Storm

"How in the world do they survive these awful storms?"  

That was my question to Billy Monday night as we sat on the back porch talking and watching the birds and other wildlife in our backyard.  

Having lived in Arkansas almost all my life, I'm used to storms.  I've been through my share of severe ones, and seen a funnel drop out of the sky right in front of my house.   I've spent time in bathtubs, closets, and more hallways under mattresses than I want to think about.  I've curled up with hundreds of other kids in elementary school hallways and sat in muggy underground storm cellars.  I've never liked them, and I learned a pretty healthy respect for them the year I was 9 and I watched the aforementioned storm swinging in the air outside our house for the 10 seconds or so that I could see it before diving for cover. 

But somehow I am more antsy about storms than I used to be.   There are several possible reasons for that, I suppose...the hailstorm that took out our front window a few years ago, roof issues with our aging home, the weight of responsibility for our children during severe weather...all probably contribute.  And this spring's record-breaking outbreaks of deadly storms has many people a bit shaken.  

So as Billy and I sat outside Monday evening and I watched the birds flutter and hop around the yard, I marvelled.  How do they survive such storms as we've had recently?  How do they withstand the high winds and pelting rain (and hail?)  We chatted a bit about the ways that they take cover in storms, went on to other topics, and I didn't give it much more thought until this morning.  

Not for the first time this spring, I woke up after a night of severe weather to the sound of birds singing, chattering, and chirping outside my window.  And not for the first time this spring, I realized that there was something rather comforting about the sounds of "our birds" after a night of such severe storms.  The devastation of last month, last Sunday, and last night are horrific.  A small town not 30 miles away was completely devastated last night by loss of both lives and property.  My heart breaks as I hear and read and see the images, and as I pray for the families involved.  

And yet...the birds sing.  What a sign of hope.  What a reminder of God's presence and care always. As I watch the birds hopping around our yard, I remember these words of Jesus from Luke 12...

“I tell you, my friends, do not be afraid of those who kill the body and after that can do no more.   But I will show you whom you should fear: Fear him who, after your body has been killed, has authority to throw you into hell. Yes, I tell you, fear him.  Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God.  Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows."  

~Luke 12:4-7

He sees and knows every. single. bird.   And we are worth "more than many sparrows".  He has the very hairs of our head numbered!!   He cares for us.  His care for us goes far beyond His care for the sparrows, for He loves us so much that He died for us.

However, this hope is not for everyone.  As the above verses state, those who have not trusted Christ have not hope.  They have reason to fear...for God has the authority to throw them into Hell.  Only those who have put their trust in Him have been saved from that fate and have sure, confident hope in God.

‎"God only proves to be a refuge for those who put their trust in Him." ~Nancy Leigh DeMoss 

I am so thankful for that hope, in the midst of the storms, both literal and figurative.  I am thankful for God's love and care and protection.  I'm thankful for the birds I hear singing outside my window, even as I type, and their reminder of that care and hope.

Beautiful sunshine in our yard today...

And more beautiful sunshine...

Sharing in community today at A Holy Experience ~ The Practice of Living Easter... Join Ann and others there for more...

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