Ros Boydell

Bill and I are enjoying our winter vacation this week. So, thank you again to my Scottish friend Ros for sharing from her life one of her experiences of listening to God.

FYI … pottered is our puttered.
Hogmanay is our New Year’s Eve.

A couple of mornings ago, as I pottered around the kitchen at first light, I noticed a starling in the garden. It too was pottering, a dark bird ambling around the dark green patch of grass in our small garden.

Weeks before the window I was looking through had a chalk pen Christmas tree drawn on the outside which, in the recent spell of inclement weather had dripped and smeared down into a lively but chaotic scene, obscuring the view. The indignity of the window decoration seemed fitting with the rest of the kitchen, displaying as it did the empty glasses and finger food, reminders of Hogmanay celebrations the night before. The earnest disarray of the kitchen was similarly replicated in the rest of the house, where Christmas decorations still hung askew, piles of presents and chocolates and recycling lurking in every corner.

The jumble and bustle of the interior demand my attention, in both enjoyment and concerted efforts to tidy up. But for those brief few seconds as my eyes tracked with the dark teal feathers of the little bird in the garden, the clamorous concerns of the inside grew quiet.

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Look. Jesus tells us in Matthew 6:26 (Msg)

Look at the birds

Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God.

And you count far more to him than birds.

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Eyes squinting to see past the vista of streaky paint, I see the bird, free and unfettered.

I see the simplicity of a creature who exists solely to sing a song of love to its Creator. Who wears its feathery robes with no thought of comparison to the robin’s renowned breast.

I see, in first foggy-eyed moments of the new year, the starling-life we’re all called to. We, too, are created to be free and unfettered, confident in the great love and provision God has for us.

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Attention drawn back to the silently blaring kitchen, my eyes settle on a pot that really should have been soaking overnight. I see a pile of dishes that need returning to a neighbour. My thoughts scan through the people residing in rooms above, I listen for floorboards signalling the new year creaking into being.

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As my eyes return to linger on this little bird, I watch as it dots around our dim garden, lifts its head then flies away.

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One thing I can be sure of for this coming year: there will be clamour, there will be hubbub. There is sure to be noise, demands, distractions – for good and for ill.

What if – I think to myself – what if in all the hubbub this year brings, I could learn to live, as the starling does, careless in the care of God?

Careless, free and unfettered, in the care of God.

And you count far more to him than birds.

How much more, then, the invitation to us all? To live as ones free, unshackled – confident to be careless in the care of our God?

Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God.

And you count far more to him than birds.

Matthew 6:26 (Msg)