Perspective...

A year ago we moved several hundred miles west and south, into a region very different from that in which I had spent my entire life, and as an avid birdwatcher, this opened up a whole new world of possibilities, at least as far as variety of bird species goes.  I spent all winter pouring over the range maps in my bird book and making a wish list of potential species I'd like to see, and this spring I am giddy as a kid at christmas, always glancing out the window hoping for a glimpse of that next new species.  There are three species of oriole on my list, two of which would be novel sightings for me.  I heard one whistling the other day and eagerly sought him out, hoping it would be either a Bullock's or an Orchard Oriole, but when he finally showed himself, it was nothing but a commonplace Baltimore Oriole, a bird I had seen a thousand times.  I had to stop and wonder at that thought, for there is no such thing as a 'common' bird, especially where orioles are concerned.

Even the most abundant sparrow species is quite remarkable when studied up close, each feather an exquisite work of art in its own right, add to that the complexity of migration, communication, and survival in this cold world, and that birds exist at all is a miracle.  I am especially fond of orioles, their song is beautiful, they are fun to watch, and they are stunningly gorgeous, that and they are a certain sign that spring has arrived at last.  So here I was, upset that I had seen so wondrous a creature, disappointed solely because it was not the bird I thought I should see at that particular moment.  And that is just birds, how much worse is it with everything else in life?  How often am I disappointed or upset because something did not happen how or when I thought it should?  Why can't I just graciously accept the beauty and blessing of the moment, rather than being discontent because life was not exactly as I thought it should be.  It would take much of the beauty and wonder out of life if everything happened exactly as we thought it should all the time, so maybe I should be more like that kid at Christmas, wide-eyed and excited, even if he is only getting socks.

In a humorously ironic side note, I saw an Orchard Oriole a few hours later and the next day there was a Bullock's Oriole strutting his stuff quite blatantly in the tree outside my window.  We are told He knows when even a sparrow falls to the ground, and that we are of much more value than the sparrows, you'd think by now I could trust Him implicitly.