Once upon a time, years ago, we lived the full-on, full-time Youth Pastor’s family life. There were some beautiful things about it. There was a reason we walked away from that life, but there were also some undeniably beautiful, God-honoring things through those years.  

One of those things is a song that came out of one of our youth groups. It is a simple song of surrender, written line-by-line by our young people as they stilled themselves and worshipped. That moment remains one of my precious memories. This song is one of simple, profound faith that challenges me to sing it honestly. Join me?

Whatever You want to do, Lord.

Whatever You want to say to me.

Whatever You want to do in this place,

I believe You.

And I trust You.

Because I love You, I will trust You.

We believe.

We believe.

Lift our hands as we surrender, You are all we need.

We believe.

We believe.

Lift our eyes to seek Your face.

We believe.

There is a family of cardinals that has returned to our neighborhood this year. This morning, I have been watching as the little ones have ventured out of the nest. They’ve moved from the high perch in their nesting tree to the ground behind the neighbor’s privacy fence. I can’t see them, but I can hear their chirps. Constant. Insistent. Excited? Afraid? Curious?

These little would-be flyers have a very different perspective now than has been available to them. No protective walls of the nest. No food delivery service. A much more limited range of view. They are exposed to more dangers even as they are afforded more freedom of movement.

Not unlike ourselves when we are launched into a new phase of our lives.

It is the behavior of the Mama bird and Daddy bird that is fascinating me right now. Generally, we see them flitting to and fro, widely ranging across the neighborhood in search of food or stretching their wings after a stint of nest-sitting. Not today.

Today, their little ones are on the ground. Today, their carefully guarded eggs have hatched, grown, and are vulnerable in a new way. Today, their parenting has taken on new responsibilities.

As their little ones chirp away, Mama and Daddy stand watch. Both have found different-tiered levels of observation: Mama down lower where she can see the littles clearly, and Daddy almost at the extreme top of their nesting tree, taking in the long-range view. Silent. Observing. Heads turning at every motion of a squirrel in the vicinity and every sound of potential danger. Relocating every minute or so to make sure the whole area is scanned.

There is so much noise and clamor from the little ones. There is so much quiet, steadfast guarding from the parents.

Only once have Mama and Daddy begun to return the chatter: when danger got too close. We also have hawks in our area. As one began to fly into range, Mama perched lower to the ground, ready to step in. Daddy began calling out a song that Mama echoed. The little ones got still and silent. Everything got quiet until the danger had passed. And once it had, both Mama and Daddy flew down for a brief in-person reassurance before taking up their posts once more.

Our Heavenly Father is like that. The Scripture says that “the eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to give strong support to those whose heart is blameless toward him.” [II Chronicles 16:9] When we’re on the ground, vulnerable, and calling out for reassurance, He’s on the lookout and ready to support us when danger comes into view.

Those tiny cardinals wanted a response much earlier. They were communicating a lot. Were they asking questions about things they were discovering? Were they hollering that they didn’t like this new point of view? “O wow! Cool!” “O no! I’m scared!” … Whatever it was, they received no answer from the high perches for a long time. Did fear creep in? Did they worry that they were abandoned?

What they couldn’t see – what WE often cannot see – was that the ones who love them, who protected and provided for them in comfortable surroundings they could understand, were STILL protecting and providing for them. As we grow up, as we enter new phases of our walk of faith, as it becomes time for us to encounter new challenges and dangers, our Heavenly Father is keeping watch. He is vigilant. He is aware. He is allowing us the opportunity to explore, grow, and strengthen. We may find ourselves hollering with seemingly no response. He’s there. He’s guarding. If danger gets too close, He’ll call out to quiet our noise, He’ll give us instruction to help us navigate the risk safely, and when it has passed, He draws close to reassure us that He was always there.

Even when we couldn’t see or hear Him.

The text read:

Hey, I was gonna go skydiving tomorrow, but wanted to make sure y’all were cool with it before I bought the ticket.

Let me back up and set the scene: