My spruce is laden with birds.

I only see them on mornings like this

When I’m not at work

When the first light

comes.

In the summer

First light

Is a whole 5 hours earlier

And it’s the opposite.

The birds are up before me.

But here in the winter

I wait for the birds.

 

 

 

The birds are what brought me here.

Mom and auntie and the realtor

Were showing us around

And I was starting to warm up

To it all

And then I heard

And saw

The birds

And that sealed it.

They were crowding round

A perfect bird house

In the snowy back yard

And I knew

I could live here

happy.

 

 

And I have.

More happy than I thought could fit

In a any house.

Such delight

In creating,

In re-making,

In welcoming,

In cooking, eating,

sharing, gardening, 

Working, resting,

Hoping,

dreaming,

Waiting.

 

Here is where I shed

Many dreams

And tears 

Like old skin,

but here is also where

I was blessed to live in

The new.

 

 

Here is where

I became.

I put aside so many

Expectations

And perspectives,

So many unhelpful things,

And I became.

 

I became 

Not afraid

Of people’s judgements.

I became

Less desperate

to steal the show.

I became 

More dependent

On God’s faithful Presence.

I became 

Less everywhere

And more centered.

I became 

Content

As I’d never been before.

I became 

More independent

And interdependent

At the same time.

I became 

Less critical

And more helpful.

I became

More wise

And less headlong.

I became

More brave.

I became

More ok

With letting go.

 

 

So many memories

Like old photos in the air

Of late night talks

On the stairs

And so many tears

In that old, white carpet.

Memories of

Pushing in seeds,

Walking out in faith,

Being met by provision

Every time.

So many memories

Of songs of praise

Reverberating off the walls

And settling deep in our hearts.

Of slow mornings

And lonely nights 

And laughter loud

And cookie dough

And sleeping in the sun.

 

Thank-you, Papa,

For the birds.

For the birds that brought me

And kept me

All these years

Waiting for them.

Thank-you, Papa,

For the house

That was just so perfect

In so many ways.

That carried me,

Comforted in your arms,

Through so many years.

 

All glory to the one who plans our steps

Who leads us on

And gives us the promise

Of his forever presence

No matter what

changes.

Good-bye my birds.

Good-bye my house.

Blessed be the name of the Lord.