In the semi darkness of my room this morning, the awful squawking of native birds woke me up. In the lounge room after breakfast, flicking through old journal entries, I noticed how little faith those entries contained. How naive was the little faith I did posess. I wondered at what Gods response was to this ranting and raving. "Even darkness is light to you."
As I pondered these things on the couch, a strange accapella chorus of crows started up outside. It went on for a bit, broken by the occasional solo. and I craned my head curiously in its direction.
The crows chorus died away and all that was left was the faint, subtley sweet notes of smaller birds puncturing the gathering freeway traffic.
Mostly, I move through my days without ever noticing such subtle sounds. I am lucky enough to live in a setting that affords me more opportunity to notice and appreciate such sounds of nature. Such quiet notes of Grace singing sweetly to me underneath the frantic noise and freeway traffic of my life.
In a way, the city is like a metaphor for a lack of faith. A 'tower of Babel.' Everything in the city is full of self and pride. Everything is a monument to human abilities. Human effort driving incessantly and desperately towards.... what? So frantic in its attempt to achieve things for itself, the city is salvation by works.
Nature is more like faith. Free and unfettered. Not tied down to job descriptions. it lives and grows quite consciously and purposefully, but without anxiety and frantic worry. Birds, and indeed, all of nature, are careless inthe care of God. Growing and living with slow patience. Most of it unseen, but producing much in the way of fruit.
I cannot discern any bird calls now. the mid mornning freeway traffic sounds as if its getting heavier. What ever Bird song remains, notes of Grace trying to break through all my frantic, faithless action, they are being drowned out by the gathering noise of the city.
