Caleb has a high chair that can be adjusted very short so that he can eat standing on the floor, but using his tray. I like to leave it at this height to give him independence. The other day, I came in the kitchen to find he had climbed up in the seat and was looking out the kitchen window, very excited about something. He was waiting, captivated, for something. Then, a bird that was sitting on the tree, leaned off his branch and into the air. Caleb screamed happily and pointed. Once the bird had found a perch, he continued staring and waiting. Cy tried to show him the bird standing on the top of the tree, but he would only notice them when they were moving. I think I could confidently say that he didn't see them unless they flew. His young mind is unable to distinguish the different dark and light spots outside unless he has had personal experience with them. I was wondering about our perspective. It seems often that we recognize only those things that are moving, or remember to be grateful for those things that demand our attention. But in the background of our lives, there are flocks of birds nesting quietly in the dark branches that we fail to see. We haven't even learned to see them unless we have personal experience with them, or we notice them when they fly, but once they are still, they become invisible to us. It seems that I am reminded over and over again about certain gospel basics. We forget their value until we really need them. I don't know that my mind is capable of being patient all the time or loving or full of faith or remember Christ at every minute. But over and over, those answers fly in front of my face when I need them. I'd like to learn though, to appreciate their presence there, just waiting to be noticed.
