We finally tired of cleaning leaves and pine needles from the gutters and downspouts of our house last Fall. Besides, moving and climbing that thirty-two foot ladder had become a nuisance [and a hazard to health and property.] The solution? Purchasing and installing the latest patented invention for sealing out debris and allowing water to flow freely. Once installed, these seemed to work well, except for the very end of one gutter, where the cover didn’t seal the opening well: however, it was evident that nothing was going to slide into that hole from the house roof, so we left the gap. All was well until the Spring, when a pair of wrens appeared to set up housekeeping in that gutter. The small opening didn’t seem to deter them, although it did stop the other, larger birds and our resident squirrels from entering the honeymoon suite. The wrens were in and out for weeks, carrying all manner of "stuff" to make a comfortable nest. It was easy to observe this pair, since the gutter end was directly visible through the living room window from my favorite recliner. After a while, we got so accustomed to the birds being there, we seldom noticed them. This morning, as I was unloading some materials from my truck in the driveway, I heard much "chirping" above my head and looking up, observed a tiny baby bird poking its head out of the opening. Then, another head appeared beside the first. No sooner had the first bird leaped (or been pushed) from the opening, than a third head appeared, then a fourth and a fifth. As soon as one little one moved out of the way, another stepped up to take its place. It reminded me of pictures of paratroopers lining up at the jump door ready to pitch out into space: the birds looked as frightened as the humans in this situation. As a matter of fact, the birds did not so much leap, as fall, into space as mama bird prodded them to move. The first one fell about a foot, flapped a little, turned back toward the nest entrance which was blocked by more birds, and settled for clinging to the brick wall below the gutter. The second dropped about the same distance but managed to flutter back under the gutter onto a curve on the downspout. Finally, the mother bird had all of the little ones on the roof, on the wall, on the downspout, and one, who seemed to have no idea what wings were for, on the ground. But mama wasn’t finished! She next went up on the roof and sneaking up behind each baby bird, chirped and fluttered her wings enough to "encourage" them to flap and fall and FLY! The first one who flew [a graceful word for an ungainly performance, more compounded of waving its wings and crying out in fear] managed to make it about eight or ten feet down and four or five across to the nearby tree. But, when it landed, it was higher in elevation than the roof from whence it was launched. What a celebration! This little fellow sat on a limb [more like a twig] and chirped and chirped and chirped at its siblings. The sound was smart-alecky, as though to say "I did it, why can’t you. Try it, it’s exciting." I was reminded of my first time to hide my fear and ride the roller coaster and the way I taunted my young friends to get them to ride with me the next time. We have recently been studying God’s Creation and its contrast with evolutionary faith and this performance reminded me of God’s perfection of original design and of the ongoing care of Jesus Christ. (Hebrew 1:2 " . . . by whom also He made the worlds . . ." Hebrew 1:3 " . . . and upholding all things by the word of His power . . .") If God spent so much thought and energy on the planning and continued care of these (some would say useless) little birds, which were hatched in a rain gutter, how much more must He have thought about you and me?

William Russell © 2003 Bible Center Church Back To Main Page / Archive of Previous Articles