We pull into a truck stop hours away from home. I look up and some winged creature, likely a sparrow, has planted her family right in the middle of the “e”—over weary truckers rolling in from hundreds of miles on the road, over kids hopping out of SUV’s to make a chocolate milk stop, over people like me, desperate for a restroom stop.
I snapped a picture and we moved on. Less than an hour up the road, we sat on the back porch of a quaint Victorian home eating lunch, and I noticed the gourd hanging from the ceiling. I peered inside. Another family, perhaps wrens, were nesting there—lodging in a lovely house designed especially for them.
A day or so later, I exit a craft store and find my husband staring up at the eave. A family of swallows had built a mud nest high in the corner. Apparently, they like to scrapbook and wanted to have easy access to materials.
I thought of Psalm 84. “Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young—a place near your altar.”
We’re all building a nest somewhere. I had to ask myself where I'm building mine. Some seasons, it's a busy thoroughfare like the swallows and sparrows, or sometimes, it's tucked away in a garden paradise like the wrens.
Psalm 84 again. “My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God.”
I hope that no matter where we are geographically, our hearts are nesting close to God. Even in our busiest times, in the middle of an “e” for example, let’s cry out for Him.