I was involved in an exciting (failed) bird rescue attempt!
The kids and I had been watching a little nest in the bushes for a few weeks. I’d noticed lots of erratic bird activity around the area so I started hunting for the nest and found it. Not long after, the two eggs hatched and we were able to peek in at the baby birds.
Then on Saturday I went to see how they were doing and snap some pics. As I walked up to the nest, one of the babies darted out of the nest in a flurry and plopped to the ground.
It couldn’t fly yet, but hopped around the yard as it tried to fly. I was mortified. I thought for sure that I’d scared the bird out of its nest much too early and doomed it to die a slow flightless death.
I lost track of where it was and came inside, guilty, to confess my sin to Tom. Then I went back out to re-check the nest and look for the bird. I saw him hopping spryly around and found a chance to redeem myself. I thought, “If I can just catch him and put him back, it’ll be like it never happened. So I did. (Later Tom reminded me that I shouldn’t have touched it because my scent would scare the parents off. My bad.)
I put the bird gently back in the nest. To my surprise, the other baby bird was no longer in the nest. It had flew the coop of its own accord. Well, the baby bird stayed put and I came back inside, very relieved to have at least returned it to its nest, but still wondering if I’d ruined their chances at a happy flying bird life. 5 minutes later I went to check on it and it was gone from the nest, again.
The next morning the kids and I were eating breakfast and Eliza squealed, “MOM! It’s the baby bird, out on the deck!!!” I slowly came to the sliding glass door and sure enough, there was the tiny baby bird. The other kids ran over and scared it, and it flew away, off our second story deck.
Yep. Flew.
I didn’t rescue it or teach it to fly. I happened to scare it out of its nest at the right time.
But I did think to myself, flying is a little like the new birth. It happens. I can’t make it happen or prevent it from happening for my kids or anyone else.
That’s not to say that what I do doesn’t matter. It does, it does! I teach them. I create the environment they’re growing up in and all of that matters immensely. That bird wouldn’t have flown if its parents hadn’t made a nest for it and sat on it and fed it the right food. Likewise I make a home for my kids, I teach them and sit on them if necessary (ha!), and I feed them the food of God’s Word.
But I don’t make them fly and the new birth isn’t born of me. It’s born of the Spirit through faith in the Son. I can read them the Bible, but I can’t make it taste good to them. I can pray with them, but I can’t make them pray. I can love them, but I can’t make them love others.
I can effect their behavior, but I can’t give them a new heart. God can.
That’s why there is no parenting formula to make sure we don’t raise Cain. There is no secret tip, or foolproof method.
There’s The Book.
The Bible is not a secret. It holds the words of life, the Good News. And everything pertaining to life, if we have the discernment to apply it with grace and wisdom from above. Lord, grant this mom more of that wisdom!
So, I take heart that my call as a mom is to faithfulness, not flying. Faithfulness to the Book, faithfulness to the God who wrote it, faithfulness to the Jesus who saves in it, and faithfulness to the Spirit who grants me faith and opens my eyes to behold wonders from the Word.
The saving belongs to God. This knowledge fuels our prayers. Save our children Lord, by the power of the Gospel of Jesus, give them His righteousness. Spirit come and awaken dead hearts to think on Jesus and well up with loving affection.
