I had a real-life demonstration of God taking care of the “birds of the air” in our backyard yesterday. A baby blue jay — nearly fully fledged, with soft, downy feathers and its distinctive blue and gray plumage already in – fell out of its nest. On the way down, it got caught in my neighbor’s fence, breaking one of its legs. My neighbor rescued it and put it in a box with grass for bedding.
Somehow, the injured nestling made its way over the fence to my yard, where my seven-year-old took charge of it before we could get it professional help. Every bit the anxious, hovering mother, she badgered me to find out what it ate, then blend some nuts and berries into a bird-friendly smoothie, and show her how to feed it with an eyedropper. She was vigilant through the afternoon until our neighbor, Trish, took the bird inside her house to keep it warm and fed through the night.
This morning, Trish took the chick to the Wild Bird Fund of NYC. I had no idea such a place existed (like most people, I don’t associate wild birds with Manhattan), but they provide medical care and rehabilitation to injured birds and are open seven days a week. From the photos Trish texted, it looks like our baby’s neighbors include a Canadian Goose as well as some other fowl.
Trish’s photos got me to thinking again about God’s promise, in Matthew 6, to care for the birds of the air — and by extension, to care for us even more. Our collective concern for this random baby bird – Trish, my daughter’s, that of other people who helped – also reminds me that God’s care is often contextual and communal, taking place through the right people at the right time partnering their time and resources to bring his love and provision where they’re needed most.
(It also got me wondering why my daughter can hover over a baby bird for hours with an eyedropper, but she can’t help me clean our guinea pig’s cage. Or clean up a dead cockroach without breaking down in hysterics. But those are stories for another time.)
For a spiritual practice for the coming month, I invite you to make a spiritual discipline of caring for one of God’s creatures in his name, as an expression of faith in his care for us, especially the “least of these.” For me, that may something as simple as reminding myself, when I’m trudging down to the basement to fill the guinea pig’s water bottle (or, let’s be real, yelling at one of my kids to do it), that as I provide daily for his needs, so God provides for mine. Such a thankful acknowledgment could turn even pooper-scooping into an act of prayer, much as Brother Lawrence could find continual communion with God over washing dishes.
Honestly, most of us don’t even have to leave the house to practice the discipline of care. Maybe you don’t have a pet. Do you have other “creatures” around? A husband? Kids? A roommate? A sibling? A houseplant? Or, if you need to venture further afield, a neighbor? Someone from your church? Find a way to serve them daily and make it a holy act — or consecrate an act of care you are already doing on a regular basis, whether it’s cooking the bacon, bringing it home, or cleaning up what happens after the bacon is consumed. The important part is not just what you’re doing, but how you do it: mindfully, reflectively, in recognition that God’s care for “the least of these” is a key part of his character and that we love and serve others because he first loved and served us.
Simple steps to follow:
- Identify someone or something you already care for or would like to begin caring for, perhaps in a way that you would normally find tedious or onerous.*
- Consider whether you will offer care alone or in partnership with others. If with others, complete the remainder of the steps together with them.
- Establish (if you haven’t already) a routine. Find a consistent time or times of day when you will carry out your work.
- Prayerfully discern how you will make this time holy. Will you say a prayer before, after, or during – perhaps a breath prayer? Is there a scripture you would like to remember while you are working? Will you take a moment to dedicate your task and the person or animal under your care to God? Or will you focus on gratitude to the God who gave you this creature to care for?
- Spend some time reflecting – ideally including journaling – on your experience of turning your task into a holy experience. What emotions came up for you? Did you notice any differences in how you experienced your work – in your body, mind, or spirit?
- End with thanksgiving.
As we make our offer up our daily caregiving routines to God, let’s trust that he will give us the grace to see every part of life, no matter how humble or ordinary, as imbued with his presence.
* There are many other ways you could envision your service, including partnering with a service organization and others in your sphere to provide more comprehensive care than an individual alone could do: Getting together with a group of friends or a Sunday school class to sponsor a child through World Vision. Taking a stray neighborhood cat to be spayed or neutered at your local ASPCA. Gathering a group to donate money or time to a meal kitchen like Father’s Heart or your equivalent local outreach is. Tithing a little extra to your church’s compassionate care ministry. Making sure to have a dollar handy for the person asking for money on the street corner or the subway. The possibilities are endless.
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