"blackbird singing in the dead of night
take these broken wings and learn to fly..."
The other day, I was on the phone with my mother, and in a tone of disgust, she said, "Well, it's blackbird season again. They're everywhere!"
In rural West Tennessee, this means everyone goes out in their yards each evening to shoot off guns haphazardly in the air to prevent blackbirds from nesting in their trees for the night. When I was growing up, I remember coming back inside after the day grew too chilly and dark to play anymore, helping my mom set the dinner table, accompanied by the BOOMs from other yards in the neighborhood, some closer, like the Pierces or Moody's (right next door), some farther away, like the Todds, the Ashleys, or the Webbs (down the street).
Unlike most other people, I love blackbirds. I don't know whether it's the noise they make or their threat of histoplasmosis, but people are almost always trying to get rid of them. I don't really understand why; I like when things nest near me. It makes me think that they found me comfortable enough to stay for a while. Blackbirds have existed since day five of creation, so I figure they're not going to hurt a tree in my yard. Growing up, my parents were among the shooters shooing them away. I like to think that when I have my own house, I'll welcome them instead.
When I was in high school, one of the hardest times of my life, I began to trust in blackbirds (well, all birds, but black ones in particular) as signs from God. At first, I felt guilty because I thought this was sacriligious. Then, I studied more in depth and I learned that God does often use physical things like birds to communicate with his people (rainbows, parting seas, burning bushes, just to name a few). It's not like I was testing God; I do believe that would be petty on my part as a human. God has done great things in my life so far, and I know he will continue to. He doesn't need to prove himself to me by sending a bird past my window. However, I still think that every time a blackbird passes my way, God is trying to tell me how much he loves me. Why blackbirds? Because they're a constant. They always come - every year, they come sweeping back in, making the silhouettes of trees full, their branches filled with the hollow bones of bodies that can fit in the palm of my hand. In my life, I equate them to football in the fall, rolling eyes as sleepers dream, nodding heads when a good beat resounds, and previews at the movies. These things always happen. I think God lets us have some constants in our lives so we can understand his nature better. How could I ever understand what he means when he says, "I will never leave you or forsake you" (Hebrews 13:5) if everything else in the world left me as well?
No, the comparison isn't as good, and it's far from perfect. With God, it never is. There's a possibility that the blackbirds won't come back next year. But I still think God understands the human minds he created, and he knows all believers are running along toward him with our tiny thoughts, grappling with our own selves to understand his greatness. And I believe he sends us things to help us along.
Because he sends a sunrise every day, I'm able to understand that if he healed the blind and rich and poor and lame, he can heal me. To me, blackbirds are comfort; from him, with love.
"...all your life, you were only waiting
for this moment to arise."
take these broken wings and learn to fly..."
The other day, I was on the phone with my mother, and in a tone of disgust, she said, "Well, it's blackbird season again. They're everywhere!"
In rural West Tennessee, this means everyone goes out in their yards each evening to shoot off guns haphazardly in the air to prevent blackbirds from nesting in their trees for the night. When I was growing up, I remember coming back inside after the day grew too chilly and dark to play anymore, helping my mom set the dinner table, accompanied by the BOOMs from other yards in the neighborhood, some closer, like the Pierces or Moody's (right next door), some farther away, like the Todds, the Ashleys, or the Webbs (down the street).
Unlike most other people, I love blackbirds. I don't know whether it's the noise they make or their threat of histoplasmosis, but people are almost always trying to get rid of them. I don't really understand why; I like when things nest near me. It makes me think that they found me comfortable enough to stay for a while. Blackbirds have existed since day five of creation, so I figure they're not going to hurt a tree in my yard. Growing up, my parents were among the shooters shooing them away. I like to think that when I have my own house, I'll welcome them instead.
When I was in high school, one of the hardest times of my life, I began to trust in blackbirds (well, all birds, but black ones in particular) as signs from God. At first, I felt guilty because I thought this was sacriligious. Then, I studied more in depth and I learned that God does often use physical things like birds to communicate with his people (rainbows, parting seas, burning bushes, just to name a few). It's not like I was testing God; I do believe that would be petty on my part as a human. God has done great things in my life so far, and I know he will continue to. He doesn't need to prove himself to me by sending a bird past my window. However, I still think that every time a blackbird passes my way, God is trying to tell me how much he loves me. Why blackbirds? Because they're a constant. They always come - every year, they come sweeping back in, making the silhouettes of trees full, their branches filled with the hollow bones of bodies that can fit in the palm of my hand. In my life, I equate them to football in the fall, rolling eyes as sleepers dream, nodding heads when a good beat resounds, and previews at the movies. These things always happen. I think God lets us have some constants in our lives so we can understand his nature better. How could I ever understand what he means when he says, "I will never leave you or forsake you" (Hebrews 13:5) if everything else in the world left me as well?
No, the comparison isn't as good, and it's far from perfect. With God, it never is. There's a possibility that the blackbirds won't come back next year. But I still think God understands the human minds he created, and he knows all believers are running along toward him with our tiny thoughts, grappling with our own selves to understand his greatness. And I believe he sends us things to help us along.
Because he sends a sunrise every day, I'm able to understand that if he healed the blind and rich and poor and lame, he can heal me. To me, blackbirds are comfort; from him, with love.
"...all your life, you were only waiting
for this moment to arise."
