morning song of the mourning dove

As I lay in bed this morning, I heard fluttering. Then the soft, haunting coos of a mourning dove. 

Last year two mourning doves sometimes perched on one of my windowsills. Their soft murmuring song fluttered around my home. A new nest was built high in the tree outside my window. Perhaps that couple has returned to their summer home.

Amidst all the uncertainty, the restrictions, masks and social distancing the birds move about freely. Travelling between their winter and summer homes. They continue to build nests, lay eggs, raise their young and sing. Do they sing to their Creator? The One who sees them.

The song of the birds reminds me that God sees even the sparrow fall—a bird that is so common, so plentiful. No beautiful bright colours in their feathers. Nothing flashy about them. Just a very ordinary bird… and yet God sees it, cares for it.

And if God cares about that common, ordinary bird, surely He cares for me. For you. 



As I lay in bed this morning, thinking thoughts in that time before fully awake, I heard the song of the mourning dove.

I thought about when Jesus was baptized. After He came up from the water the heavens opened and the dove—the physical sign of the Spirit of God—came down and landed on Jesus. I thought about the voice from heaven, “This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.” 

During His life, Jesus was never alone. God, His Heavenly Father, was with Him. Through the good times and the bad. His time with the crowds and the times when He was alone. The joyful times and the painful times. In celebrating and grieving. 

Through the Holy Spirit, God is with me, too.  In the joy and in the mourning, God is with me. Why not invite Him to be with you too?

As I lay in bed this morning, I heard the song of the mourning dove. 

Rise up.

1 Comment

  1. Josh



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