Some of our birds migrate. They leave in the fall, which is sad, but come back in the spring, bringing hope that once again winter will be a season and not perpetual. Who of us does not find someone to tell when we see our first robin of the year?
Then there are those birds that stay all year and look the same month after month. Other than the stunning contrast that the cardinal red exposes against a blanket of white snow, it doesn’t announce seasonal changes.
But I want us to consider the gold finch. I used to think these brilliant yellow birds went south for the winter. Then one year I watched as one of my nondescript olive colored friends, that had been nipping at the Niger seed bag all winter, began to slowly brighten into a brilliant yellow.
As I watch this I recognize that this drab little bird, that I am not paying much attention to, is still a finch.
I am glad that God is not impressed with me when I am bright and shiny. On those days when someone comments that I was helpful, that my idea was a great contribution or that I really look great (for my age). I’m glad God doesn’t love me more on those days.
I am glad that God does not get bored with me when I am nondescript. On those days when no one notices me, no one comments on my ideas or maybe someone even asks me if I am tired. I’m glad God doesn’t love me less on those days.
What if I lined up my own perception of myself with God’s perception of me?
What if I am deliberate in lining up my perception of other people with God’s perception of them?
God looks at the little bird all year and knows it’s still a finch.