It's the season of birdsong.
As the birds fly through or settle in, they bring their voices and delight my ears with their natural calls.
The other day as I was out jogging I stopped to watch one that caught my ear. I think I have the call down as well as I'm able...cheeep, cheeep, cheeep, cheepcheepcheepcheep, ahgggggggcheep!
I laughed each time I heard the ahggggg!
The great thing about early spring is that a large part of the time I can also SEE the bird. The trees are not full of leaves yet and if I look, I can figure out which bird is singing the song.
I travel back in time this week, trying to feel the passion of it all. Jesus hailed king as He came to Jerusalem. The disciples knowing this was a dangerous mission...following Him though they thought they might end up dying with Him.
He'd told them over and over what was going to happen:
"We are going to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be betrayed to the chief priests and the teachers of the law. They will condemn him to death and will turn him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified. On the third day he will be raised to life!" Matthew 20.18,19
So clear, yet the tree was covered with foliage and they could not really see.
It was dark, so dark, as they followed Him into Jerusalem. He was preaching to the people in the temple courts, raising Lazarus from the dead...and the climate was dripping with suspense.
He knew. They didn't. They had heard the song, but couldn't see the source.
Fears became reality and Jesus was arrested, accused, tried, condemned.
He was exposed, hung near naked, flesh torn open, elevated for all to see.
In that clearness of exposure I have a choice to see Him for who He is.
Choosing to save humanity from ourselves.
My response, "Yes, expose me, too, Jesus. For who I really am: soul-stained with sin, body full of fault."
"Cover me, wash me, clean me with Your powerful grace and mercy."
"So that You become exposed in me, too. My words a song of hope, my life a clear reflection of Your peace."
photos: third annual trip to Daffodil Hill; this time precious friends joined us