It was nearing the end of a weekend-long conference that, with the help of several others, I had planned and directed. Despite the fact that I was on chemo and was dealing with other health issues throughout the planning process, things seemed to be going smoothly for all involved. Organizing the weekend seemed to take most of my recent time, but it had helped to take my mind off my physical problems. Near the end of the conference, I began to feel anxious about what I would do with all the newfound time I would have. I decided some fresh air and a walk would relieve the desolation I was slipping into, as I feared that I had nothing to contribute to life in general after the conference.
And that’s when I saw it. It had landed in the middle of the street in front of me. It was a perfectly formed, intact empty bird nest that had fallen from a tree. Filled with fascination, I picked it up, not wanting anything else to happen to it. I stood there studying this little wonder. Once a protector of vulnerable eggs, it was now empty and vulnerable itself. It had involuntarily left the safe environment of the tree. Lying there in the road, it seemed its usefulness was over. I can honestly say I was relating to its situation. What had happened? How did it come to be there on the ground? But the real question for me was, Why was I so fascinated by it?
The longer I held the nest, the more I realized that it had wisdom to share with me. This nest was reflecting back to me my current state of life. How alike we were!
In its seemingly dire situation, the little nest was teaching me resiliency and purpose. It had survived its involuntary fall from the safety of the tree and had landed in a vulnerable spot. But now its strength was in its resiliency. Like the nest, I am in my later years, vulnerable to the aging process, involuntarily placed in an environment of doctor visits and medicine. But the truth is, I am resilient too.
God is with me, protecting me when I am fragile, showing me how to use my gifts when I feel empty, and generously providing the grace I need.
Even though it would appear that the nest was no longer useful, God was using it for the purpose of teaching me. The conference may have been over, but my life is not. My life still has purpose. God is with me, protecting me when I am fragile, showing me how to use my gifts when I feel empty, and generously providing the grace I need to overcome the desolation that can come when I’m out of my comfort zone. What a gift my late years can be if I trust them to God!
The next time you are feeling lost, go for a walk and take a look around. You just might see something oddly out of place to help you through it.
