Remember the Birds
Aug 10
/
Karissa Harrison
Remember when Jesus talked about the birds? There were also lilies, coins, seeds, leaven, bread, and sheep. I know there were others, but those are the ones top of mind in this moment. Jesus was a brilliant teacher, and he used the stuff of our everyday life to help us begin to notice the loving care of God surrounding and filling our moments.
In the last year, as I have sensed sacred invitations into new beginnings, the birds have become something of a sacrament to me on my morning walks. When we allow them to, these ordinary items become tactile and tangible reminders of the unseen presence of God. They remind us that Presence is always lovingly and tenderly at work in our lives.
Does a day go by when you don’t hear or see the birds? It’s more likely that days go by without noticing the presence and music of the birds, but they’re always there. Days go by when I forget to notice and attend to the presence of God, and then all of a sudden the stuff of life jolts me back into awareness. These moments lift us, even if temporarily, out of the darkness, the chaos, and the mundane and realign our hearts with the steady rhythm of God’s loving care.
Remember the birds, and how all of their needs are met? How much more does God care for you? Is there a detail that goes unnoticed? Is there a moment too insignificant?
If the hairs on our head are numbered, then surely the details of our lives are contained within Presence.
There will be times when this truth feels so real you can almost taste it. The veil will part, and there will be glimpses of beauty, peace, goodness, and an assurance that all shall be well. Savor those fleeting moments. Store them up like a squirrel with a mouthful of nuts because most of life will be lived with long stretches in between those glimpses.
It may not be so for others, but you will have long stretches of darkness and desert where it seems as if the presence of God has suddenly left the room. The dryness will keep you longing for the One you know to be good and true. Stay with the longing. When the days are long, and dark, and dry, it will be even more important to notice the birds. Allow their presence to remind you of the Presence that’s temporarily hidden from you.
Allow their song to stir your heart to awe and wonder. Allow their freedom to inspire your courage to pursue your deepest longings. The veil will part again, the desert won’t last forever, and the darkness cannot put out the light. Until then, allow the birds to become friends, ministers, and sacred reminders of the Holy holding this very moment.
Practicing Presence:
Consider taking 5 minutes to walk or sit outside. Notice the stuff of life that reminds you of the unseen Presence Jesus taught us about. Ask God to help you remember a time when the veil parted, and you sensed the loving care of God in your life. Take a moment to remember, savor, and give thanks for what comes to mind.
In the last year, as I have sensed sacred invitations into new beginnings, the birds have become something of a sacrament to me on my morning walks. When we allow them to, these ordinary items become tactile and tangible reminders of the unseen presence of God. They remind us that Presence is always lovingly and tenderly at work in our lives.
Does a day go by when you don’t hear or see the birds? It’s more likely that days go by without noticing the presence and music of the birds, but they’re always there. Days go by when I forget to notice and attend to the presence of God, and then all of a sudden the stuff of life jolts me back into awareness. These moments lift us, even if temporarily, out of the darkness, the chaos, and the mundane and realign our hearts with the steady rhythm of God’s loving care.
Remember the birds, and how all of their needs are met? How much more does God care for you? Is there a detail that goes unnoticed? Is there a moment too insignificant?
If the hairs on our head are numbered, then surely the details of our lives are contained within Presence.
There will be times when this truth feels so real you can almost taste it. The veil will part, and there will be glimpses of beauty, peace, goodness, and an assurance that all shall be well. Savor those fleeting moments. Store them up like a squirrel with a mouthful of nuts because most of life will be lived with long stretches in between those glimpses.
It may not be so for others, but you will have long stretches of darkness and desert where it seems as if the presence of God has suddenly left the room. The dryness will keep you longing for the One you know to be good and true. Stay with the longing. When the days are long, and dark, and dry, it will be even more important to notice the birds. Allow their presence to remind you of the Presence that’s temporarily hidden from you.
Allow their song to stir your heart to awe and wonder. Allow their freedom to inspire your courage to pursue your deepest longings. The veil will part again, the desert won’t last forever, and the darkness cannot put out the light. Until then, allow the birds to become friends, ministers, and sacred reminders of the Holy holding this very moment.
Practicing Presence:
Consider taking 5 minutes to walk or sit outside. Notice the stuff of life that reminds you of the unseen Presence Jesus taught us about. Ask God to help you remember a time when the veil parted, and you sensed the loving care of God in your life. Take a moment to remember, savor, and give thanks for what comes to mind.
Karissa Harrison
Karissa Harrison is a writer, pastor, and spiritual director in training. She longs to learn how to live contemplatively in the midst of ordinary life and work. After twenty years in pastoral ministry, she now writes, teaches, and hosts spaces where we can experience a deepening faith, greater awareness, and transformation.
She is the founder of Church for the Rest of Us, an online contemplative community, and lives in Southern California with her husband and three children.
You can find her writing on Substack and on Instagram at @karissaharrison.
Karissa Harrison is a writer, pastor, and spiritual director in training. She longs to learn how to live contemplatively in the midst of ordinary life and work. After twenty years in pastoral ministry, she now writes, teaches, and hosts spaces where we can experience a deepening faith, greater awareness, and transformation.
She is the founder of Church for the Rest of Us, an online contemplative community, and lives in Southern California with her husband and three children.
You can find her writing on Substack and on Instagram at @karissaharrison.
