It was last spring. I thought I had cleaned up the study on the second floor nicely, but noticed a pile of twigs scattered on the floor beneath the window. Without thinking much of it, I swept them away. However, not long after, similar straw-like bits had piled up again.

Puzzled, I looked around carefully, and soon heard the fluttering and cheerful chirping of birds outside the window. Peeking out, I saw two Blue Jays busily gathering leaves and twigs, building a nest between the windowsill and the bottom of the air conditioner unit.

“Aha! The birds are building a home!” I was overjoyed and warmly welcomed the precious guests that had moved into our house. It’s common for birds to build their nests high up in trees, so the fact that they chose the second-floor window of the parsonage was a delightful surprise.

We had previously stuck a piece of clear Scotch tape under the air conditioner, so all we had to do was pull back the curtain to get a full view of the nest. That, too, was an unexpected joy.

The birds worked diligently on their nest. In just one day, a soft and cozy little home had been completed. What I found fascinating was that the bottom of the nest was made from coarse, entangled twigs, while the top was layered with soft feathers and fluff, making it warm and cushiony.

I began to enjoy quietly listening for the birds and sneaking a peek behind the curtain whenever they were away.

Then one day, I saw three beautiful white eggs neatly laid inside the nest. The sight of these tiny lives quietly incubating atop the nest was sacred beyond words. A few days later, unfamiliar high-pitched chirping sounds filled the room—sounds I had never heard before. The eggs had hatched! The mother and father birds were flying in and out, constantly feeding the newborn chicks.

Normally, the baby birds stayed completely silent. But the moment they heard the flutter of wings or the distant call of their parents, they instantly awoke and filled the whole house with noise and excitement.

Around the parsonage, many birds of unknown names came and went, calling out to one another in a symphony of high and low pitches. Yet these baby birds could distinguish the unique voice of their parents among the many sounds. Even when the parent birds were still far off, just circling near the nest, the chicks would open their yellow beaks wide and cry out in excitement.

Watching the lives of these small creatures unfold before my eyes, I couldn’t help but think of God’s loving hand. I was filled with gratitude.

When God sends life into this world, He also prepares food and shelter in advance. Until each life is ready to grow and stand on its own, His hand cares for them perfectly. And yet, despite this divine care, how often do we live each day in anxious worry, foolishly consumed with thoughts like “What shall we eat?” or “What shall we wear?”

These birds reminded me how absurd that is.

God created the universe as a great nest and desires to receive praise from His creation. What we can do is to praise His providence, find joy in His care, and listen for His voice.

Just like those baby birds—who ignore every other sound but respond only to the voice of their mother—we, too, are called to discern and answer the voice of our heavenly Father.