To say that birds were a “thing” in my house growing up would be an understatement. We were the Bird family. “Bird, just like flies in the sky,” mom would always say when explaining how to spell our last name.
“Cody doesn’t know what Cody doesn’t know, and Kara doesn’t know what Kara doesn’t know. ” This statement from our premarital counseling is one my husband and I have repeated to each other more than a few times. Usually in the same sweet southern accent our counselor spoke it to us that first time. It’s an important reminder.
Sometimes I make things too complicated. I get this idea in my head that I have to do HUGE things for God, or they somehow don’t count. I hear about people moving to other countries to build orphanages, be doctors, or just learn a completely new culture in order to introduce people to Jesus.
I lay on the cold ground, flashlight in one hand, rotisserie chicken in the other. I twisted my head just right so I could see under the deck, and catch another glimpse of those familiar eyes. There he was. My lost cat, huddled up in the farthest corner.
My husband and I sat in front of the TV at his Nana’s house. A Hallmark Christmas movie was on, and we got sucked in. For some reason we were in a sarcastic mood that day, and we started sharing some of our “observations” about the movie with each other.
I went axe throwing yesterday. Yes, that's a thing that people do now. Like, for fun. And no, it's not something I ever pictured myself doing. But there I was, with a small sharp object in my hand, and a wooden target in front of me. Somehow, I was supposed to make the two connect.
Some days, I struggle to show up to life. Some days, everything just feels like way too much. There's so much heartache and so much suffering. Across the street, around the world, across the room. Not to mention my own shortcomings and burdens.
Sitting in the coffee shop, I hear the sound track of love coming from the speaker behind me. Or at least, the soundtrack of wedding receptions. Frank Sinatra is, “saying something stupid like I love you,” while Etta James, “wants a Sunday kind of love.
I like direction. I like knowing the big picture. I like clarity. Which I’m learning is a really nice way of saying that I like control. This was a recent revelation for me.
My mom used to sit at the piano and play this old hymn a lot. Sometimes she would even sing along. "Great is thy Faithfulness, O God my Father. " As a child, I’m not sure I understood the significance of those words.