Devotion 36
Little One
One of the pleasures of living at the lake is watching the songbirds and waterfowl cavort from morning until night. During the coldest weather I supplement their meager diet with "feed" bread. Now they recognize the sound of the sliding glass door and my voice.
Recently I saw my neighbor Cherry armed with a net on a long stick. She was accompanied by the security officer on duty and a woman I didn't recognize. When I wandered out to see what was going on, she told me about the little sea gull with a fishing lure caught in its eye on one side as well as on the other side of its little face.
They were off to try to catch it and cut the lure free with the wire cutters with which she had armed herself. I went along to help. Outwitting us, it flew across the cove. "I wish it could understand that we are just trying to help it," she said, distressed by our lack of success.
"But it can't," I told her. I have learned that I wasn't exactly right.
The next evening I went out to feed, and there in the middle of the black coots was the sea gull. Its eye was grotesque looking and the lure under its chin kept it from feeding. It was obviously weaker.
I offered it some bread on its "good" side, and it grabbed it. I fed them all a little more and hurried to the house. "Jim," I called, "find some wire cutters and come help me." I waited for an answer because I knew this would not be his choice of activity. Grabbing a small afghan I hurried out. Jim approached the bird from the rear and tossed the afghan over it, and I held down the sides as it struggled.
Turning the blanket back, I exposed its little head, and Jim went to work. I always thought those lures were fragile. Not so. We struggled to cut the wires as close as we could to the feathers, knowing we had to leave some imbedded in the flesh.
It fought us a little and leaped away when we released it. It wasn't much interested in food after that. "Little One," I called, but there was no response. "Well, that's that" I thought. "At least it has a chance of survival."
Yet there it was the next time — and every time after that —, ready for some bread.
The problem was approaching it from the "good side." Although the eye looked better, and I was glad it hadn't lost its eyeball, I knew it would never be able to see. So I tried to get on the good side so it could see me.
When that didn't work I called it: "Here I am, Little One, over here." Sometimes it turned; others it moved away or circled the wrong way.
"Here I am, Little One; you're turning the wrong way," I called.
"How like the Lord," I thought after my first success at feeding it. How often do I turn a blind eye to Him when I'm too absorbed in daily living, when I'm hurting or angry or sad?
Yet He woos me, "Over here, Little One; you're turning the wrong way.
Undoubtedly He moves around me, just as I maneuver myself around the gull to give it a better vantage point, often without success. Just like me, He still calls, "Here I am, Little One, over here!"
I pray I'll be at least as responsive to His call as the little gull — with no knowledge of such matters — responds to me.
Didn't Job tell us in the 12th chapter and 7th verse to "ask now the beasts, and they shall teach thee; and the fowls of the air, and they shall tell thee..."?
For Further Consideration
Psalm 91
Isaiah 40:28-31
Even So
The lovely blue of sky and lake
Say never, never Christ forsake.
The life renewed each lovely spring,
Says always own Him Lord and King.
The glorious sunset o'er the hill
Bespeaks the beauty of His will.
The changing moon His glory gleams
To tell how Jesus' mercy stream.
The sun with power unknown to man
Shows traces of His might hand.
The storms that sweep the earth so clean
Proclaim His power to the redeemed.
His sunrise red against the sky
So sweetly says the Lord is nigh.
The living green which crowns the hills
Just sings of life within God's will.
The bird song as it trills and soars
A holy praise to God outpours.
The petaled life that flowers and flames
Proclaims the glory of His name.
The ocean's boundless surging tide
Mirrors His grace so deep and wide.
Nature, with all its mysteries,
Says Christ is coming back for me!
Dorothy Ruth Harris Teel
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