i sat and looked out, but i came to this room to reflect. within moments, my cheeks were wet with tears. and then, the full-on silent sob came. fortunately, i had just hiked, and the mid-august heat had my face already "glistening" with beads of sweat, so the tears didn't seem so apparent.
i thought about these birds, that don't have to work for their food. these chipmunks that don't have to hunt. they've all been provided for. but what about the ones in the field that couldn't make it? or didn't know? or were just too far away? what happens to them? and who gets to choose? certainly these birds and beasts didn't *earn* the right to this never ending smorgasbord. and certainly, the others didn't do enough bad-bird-stuff to get themselves banned from the buffet.
***
i looked to my right. silently, a woman sat with an older, disabled child in a handicapped stroller. they watched the birds, and every now and then, the woman would whisper something to the child, who wasn't capable of verbally responding.
my heart broke for this child, for this woman. as they left, another dad came in, with yet again another older child, in a handicapped stroller, capable of only involuntary outburst and screams. i heard him speak with tenderness about his daughter to the woman he was with, presumably, a new date. i was broken for the difficulties that she would have to sacrifice for, and for the long, difficult, and somewhat unpredictable journey fatherhood must've been for him.
who got to choose that these children would have disabilities, when the ones in the other room are running and yelling, free as can be, with no assumption that it could, or should, be any different? why is this the path that God had for them and their families? certainly the Lord wouldn't punish a child for the sins of his parent; no more than he must grant bounty to some and bareness to others.
***
i sat, and i cried, and i thought, and i cried some more.
i didn't have any answers. i didn't have any divine, spiritual wisdom revealed to me in some great epiphany. i thought about my own lack as of lately; when i've been trusting the Lord for provision, for a job namely, but for other spiritual fortitudes, and how I feel like neither my good work can earn it, nor could my failures of flesh do anything to diminish it. how i seem to be hanging in the balance, watching the birds find their food, yet being on the opposite side of the glass just peering out.
i read through Matthew 6 and continued to weep. knowing that the Lord promises provisions for each and every day, one at a time. also knowing that He uses others to be the answer to prayer; the Lord didn't drop manna for these mockingbirds-- He used humans to supply for their needs.
quite often we could be the answer to someone else's prayers, but we are too busy offering to pray for them, rather than offering to jump in and help meet their needs.
***
this post has been all over the place. i don't have answers, and i think that's okay. i wrestle with God often over the depravity of man and the difficult ways life presents itself. but He's a big God, and He will always win the wrestling match.
just some thoughts on provision, and the questions i have yet to find answers to.
