Sunday evening. It had been an exhausting week. By Sunday I had nothing left. I felt raw, exposed, spiralling down into despair. I was compelled to drive to the Nest. As I approached, it appeared to be as empty as I was. Then I noticed the black bird perched on the top of the tree, scolding away. And I heard the response at the same moment I saw the parent shooting into view.
I peered more closely; was that a slight movement?
The parent retreated to a nearby tree to keep an eye on the proceedings. How were the fledglings going to learn to look after themselves if she was there all the time?
As I took in the wings spread protectively over the nest, God reminded me of His promise in the 91st Psalm: "He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge." His unobtrusive presence would shield me from this wave of the internal storm.
I found I could breathe a little easier ...
Monday at noon. We were rushing into Red Deer, but we stopped for literally two minutes.
Where had the babies gone?! If it wasn't for the two fussbudget adults, I would have thought there had been a coup.
But look at the baby heads supported on the suddenly awkward adolescent bodies ...
Monday evening. Rushing back for chores. How could we not stop, just for a moment? The blackbird with the red heart appeared fed up with yet another intrusion..
But who was this?
Just like the previous evening, the stronger baby was keeping watch over its frailer sibling.
Sometimes when the children are a little older, they start to get a bit rebellious. Ahh, they're good kids for the most part; but a mother's job is never done; it can get exhausting.
Enter the trusted friend. The kids know her and she can take a turn scolding them.
Our mother saw her friend and actually called out to her. She responded, as a good friend does.
Here's what I saw a couple of mornings ago ...
Later that evening, on my way home, peace and unity seemed to have been restored ...
I didn't expect it to hit me so hard, this first fatherless Father's Day. In looking through old Father's day posts I found one that spoke the words my Dad wrote me on my 50th birthday.
About a time he sang to me.
Who will sing to me this year to comfort my sad heart and tell me that "the counsel is established, ratified in Heaven and on earth" and therefore all will be well?
On Father's Day, I want to share with you words my father wrote [in 2012]: The morning began with laughter and chatter and then the little child ran off with Kirtan, the butler, to take Gumba and Nana [her grandparents] their morning tea. She led the way up the stairs to their room, Kirtan following with the tray loaded with cups and saucers, a pot of freshly brewed tea, a jug of scalding hot milk, a few small biscuits and some fresh fruit. This was their chota hawzri, little breakfast. Near the top of the stairs she stumbled and fell backwards. Kirtan reached forward to stop her fall, and in the process the hot tea and boiling milk were spilt on her. A loud cry was heard. Her mother and father ran upstairs and found her being held at arm's length by Gumba, her light night dress soaking wet. He did not know what to do. Her parents quickly removed her undergarments as they were sealing the heat to her skin. Gumba and Nana were totally distraught that this should happen to their granddaughter and in their house. Kirtan was crushed as he felt that he was responsible. The father carried her down to their room and laid her on the white sheets that the mother had just smoothed out for her. There she lay for a moment, in desperate shock and pain; then she said softly and yet so earnestly words that can never be forgotten: "Daddy, sing Jesus Loves Me." The father felt that his heart was being pulled out of his chest by invisible cords of longing and anguish. He then sang, the best he could, to this little girl who was in such great pain and shock:
Jesus loves me, this I know
For the Bible tells me so
Little ones to Him belong -
They are weak, but He is strong
She lay quietly on the bed.
Wonderfully, they had a large medicated bandage that was suitable for such a burn; and then off to the doctor. Many weeks transpired in the treatment of this injury, which was oft times painful, until it was finally healed. Of course, a scar remains.
Many years have transpired since then. Calendars have been hung on the wall and taken down, and a new one hangs in its place. There have been many mornings of laughter and chatter and running to show the way. There have been days with family and friends, tea, lots of tea. There have been books and music; there have been singing and travel; there have been the Bible and Church and prayer.
There have been burdens lifted from shoulders and hearts bowed down with despair. There has been great joy in the gladness of another and there has been deep grief in the loss of those most dear to the heart. There have been lonely hours and silent nights. There has been unknown and often unexpressed shock and pain - not the pain of burning flesh but the tearing and twisting of a wounded spirit and a pummeled heart and mind. There have been times when the only adequate prayer that could be uttered from the depths of the soul was "Oh God ..."
But there is triumph! The clock does not stay forever at midnight. There is new purpose, new beginnings, fresh hope. There have been many times when this little girl, now a woman caring and strong, has needed to hear those words, Jesus loves me, this I know for the Bible tells me so ... but they were not heard; the singer was silent!
But echoing from the mountains of God and distilling like falling dew upon the waiting heart comes the sure and sweet refrain, Jesus loves me, this I know for the Bible tells me so.
The daggers of doubt may shoot their arrows; the shadow of betrayal may cast its net; the poison of falsity may fill its vial. These and the ravaging hordes that follow them can never silence or change the eternal truth, settled in the eternal decree before the world and stars were hung in space, and sealed on Calvary's hill as the precious blood of the Lamb of God was spilt, that Jesus loves me, this I know for the Bible tells me so.
For fifty years it has been true for this one, and praise is offered. The curtain lifts; there is silence; and then a new scene comes before us. Whatever it may hold, the counsel is established, ratified in Heaven and on earth, assured by divine omnipotence:
Jesus loves me, this I know
For the Bible tells me so
Little ones to Him belong -
They are weak, but He is strong
Yes, Jesus loves me
Yes, Jesus loves me
Yes, Jesus loves me
The Bible tells me so
Allan T. Ironside
May 3, 2012
This was my father's love letter to me on my fiftieth birthday. You can glimpse the heart of this man, right from when I was an infant until this very day.
He is the person who has influenced me the most for good in my life.
No wonder Jesus Loves Me is my favourite song!
Thank you, Dad, for your great love - first for God, then for Mum, and then for your six children and now your grandchildren - which has proved to be the best teacher possible in communicating God's love for us.
I had a delivery to make yesterday; as I was getting ready to leave for home, the lightning started whipping the sky, which responded by weeping with torrential rain.
Driving home, I had occasion to pass the nest. Curious, I pulled over to see what I could see.
There she was, barely moving although her body was undulating mightily. She glared at me but didn't make a sound.
She was drenched, the rain beating down on her; but her babies were safe and dry.
One of my great joys in this new life is seeing mums and babies from the animal kingdom together. I had wondered about posting a picture under the heading "Mum and Me!" every now and then. I wasn't sure just when I was going to launch the segment, however - until today made it easy.
I was on the way to Red Deer and saw in a tree by the side of the road up ahead what looked like a nest and a shadow over it.
"Perhaps a bird," I mused, so I pulled over to the opposite side of the road. It was definitely a bird - an owl or a hawk, I wasn't sure. The glare of the white sky blurred my vision a little. Nevertheless, I rolled down my driver's window, tried to focus on the nest, and clicked five times. I couldn't actually see what my camera was capturing, but at the third click the bird squawked quietly; the sound at the fifth click was akin to a shriek and was, I felt, directed at me, so I drove on ...
You can imagine my delight when I finally got to look at the pictures some time later!
Here in order are the five pictures:
Copyright 2017 Karyn C Ironside
Copyright 2017 Karyn C Ironside
Copyright 2017 Karyn C Ironside
Copyright 2017 Karyn C Ironside
Copyright 2017 Karyn C Ironside
Pretty obedient babies, wouldn't you say?! And a very vigilant mum ...
