Props if you read this just because you wanted to know what “exigency” means.
It’s a crisis, a problem, a predicament. And I hate it when I can’t do anything to solve it.
I know this is about a week late in coming, since Mother’s Day was last weekend, but I’m super thankful for my mom. I could go on for posts and posts about how wonderful both my parents are. I could not and would not trade either of them ever. Any time I’ve ever been upset with them, it had always been because I was wrong.
And that’s sort of my point, but first, a story; a sad story.
A robin had decided to construct a nest right on the ledge over the window on our front porch at the house. It seemed like a good idea, I guess, even though my dad kept trying to lead the bird elsewhere by removing the first nest scrappings time and time again. Eventually, his efforts failed and the bird built a nest there anyway.
A few weeks I suppose went by and the robin was pretty skittish; any time any of us walked by the front porch, the mother would fly away. One day, my sister sent me a photo of the baby birds she could see, their little heads popping up over the nest.
I came home a few days later in a rush to get to something or other, and quickly walked by the porch to get to the door. But I had to come back and look. After some windy weather, the nest had fallen off the ledge. The nest was empty and damaged, and the poor baby birds, three of them there, were struggling on the ground. Some were breathing, but all were unable to move.
I had my hands full, but that’s not the reason why I knew I couldn’t help them. I knew there was this thing about birds, and certainly some other animals: mothers won’t come back to them if humans touch them.
I was sad. Struck. I think I even spilled some of the tea I had in my hand. A short while later, my mom came home and said she saw them like that that morning before she left for work, and couldn’t bring herself to try to help them for fear the mother wouldn’t come back, or put them in the trash because they were still breathing.
We all said it: Maybe the mommy bird will come back for them. Maybe she’ll help them. Maybe she’ll build a new nest and find a way for them to live.
Yeah, I hoped that. I wanted that. But I knew I couldn’t fix it.
I know we aren’t birds, but I sure am thankful my mom (and dad) have kept their nest open to me. No matter where I am, I know where my home is; no dream of mine or whim could ever change that.
But perhaps what I’m most thankful for is that God never – never – abandons us. You can argue and vent and not understand why things happen the way they do, but God is actually always there. If we fall or something pushes us into danger or harm, He comes back. He finds a way for us to live in Him. The junky stuff happens because human beings are not all they’re cracked up to be. Some of us have abandoned others, but we’ve sinned, we’ve harmed, we’ve failed. And even if someone’s parents have left, God is there still.
“The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” – Deuteronomy 31:8
And that’s a happy truth.
Reasons (just a few) why I still love going home:
- All silliness aside, I have the best family ever. And I will leave it at that so you don’t get too jealous.
- We have a dog and he’s really cute. Even if he likes to steal my socks.
- I don’t have to pay for meals. :)
- There’s a Wii and that’s fun.
- Sister and I can be silly together.
- It does not matter what I wear or what I look like.
- There’s a piano!
- We can listen to music or watch movies as loud as we want.
- If there’s a bug, I can ask dad to kill it.
- There’s a backyard and, you know, other significant outdoor space.