FIRMLY PLANTED â—½ ENCOURAGEMENT
Storms of Cleansing
by Dina Cavazos
One of my garden passions is watching birds (as opposed to bird-watching). To me watching birds is just that: enjoying the variety, laughing at their squabbling, listening to their tweeting melodies. “Bird watching”, in my opinion, denotes a more scientific approach, such as identification and studying behavior. Mine is pure admiration and appreciation of creation. It brings me joy when doves fly through the patio like rockets; when tiny wrens explore the furniture, hopping happily between and under things; and when they wait in the trees for their morning feed, shyly flying away when I get near.
What makes my garden a bird paradise is plenty of water for them to drink, and nine bird feeders that offer a variety of seed. I buy no-waste birdseed for two feeders located right outside my kitchen window, but it’s too expensive to use for all the feeders. That means the rest of the bird feeders have seeds with shells, such as sunflower seeds, millet, etc. Birds are messy eaters—they drop seed and shells as they feed, leaving a mess underneath the feeders. This is good for the doves and squirrels—they’re ground feeders and clean it up for the most part, but there are always shells left behind. The shells mix into the granite paths and it’s just about impossible to separate them, so I just leave them.
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When we have a really good rain it runs through the path taking loose debris with it. The debris accumulates in places where it can go no further, like the edges of the
steel border and rocks. This is good because now the seed shells are in little piles, along with some leaves and small sticks that fall in the path. I can now scoop up the little piles and my garden path looks much cleaner. It’s a recurring cycle that I can count on. Eventually a strong rain will come along to wash away the bits of litter I haven’t removed for whatever reason.
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Once again, God speaks through nature…
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The storms of life serve a purpose in my faith-walk. My path gets cluttered with debris: wrong priorities, meaningless distractions, weights I’m carrying that aren’t mine. I wish it wasn’t so, but sometimes it takes a storm to blow through and clear my path. It’s my part to scoop up the little piles, cast them away, and start again.
Yes, it’s a recurring cycle, but I’m grateful.