Finches

It had been an extra-tough year. My husband’s cancer diagnosis last spring blasted our family into a whirlwind of doctor’s appointments, medical questions, fear, more medical questions, financial questions, more fear, more doctor’s appointments, and oh yes, more questions. Today, we experience our daily lives at an awkward pace; switching out the old pace and perspective on life for this new normal. Joe’s health continues to stabilize, but my writing needed some resuscitation. I needed to find myself again and ask some basic questions: who am I, what do I think about, what I need. I needed to thrive, not just survive; and in the middle of it all I still needed God.

Fortunately, God never left. He is still here. I just forgot. I also forgot some of my habits which seem insignificant but are the source of refueling for my soul. Habits like prayer and journaling, not just several days a week, but every day. My spirit longed for the simple things again: for time with myself, time with friends, time for baking. Last week, I remembered another joy I’ve missed: replenishing my finch feeder.

The shepherd’s hook out back had been empty for months, and last week I finally put up a finch feeder again. The next day, my eyes clouded with tears when I saw that the finches returned. They simply wanted their share; their portion; one tiny piece of nyjer seed at a time, and that's when I remembered. It's not the big doses of God that matter; it's the regular little portions that I will always crave. And receive, if only I ask.

The finches are back and so am I.