Unexpected visitors.

A week ago, I spotted a new bird sitting on our fence.  I was struck by his beauty.  His song, one I had never heard – a sweet cackle.  He presented as friendly, allowing me to approach him with only a few feet separating us.  Curiosity grabbed hold of me.  I researched.  He is a common house martin.  I began looking for him.  I found myself needing to see him.

I continued to see him.  And then she joined our party of curious encounters.  It seemed as though we studied one another.  I sat in frequent anticipation hoping to have just one more look.  One more moment of watching, hearing, and noticing them.  They were doing something for me – giving me something I could not quite put my finger on.

I continued to anticipate their presence.  These past few days, they have joined our home.  Just inches outside our porch, they are building a nest in an ugly, old birdhouse.  I almost threw it away (it’s that ugly!)  Now, I find it the most valuable thing on our property.

They are amazing, there is no doubt about it.  But I began to ponder more why it is that I am so captured by their presence.  What exactly were they doing for me?  Why do I seem to need to see them?  Need to know they are there?  To answer that, I need to back up a bit.

The past month or so, I have had a case of the “pricklies.”  This is my term for “I AM READY TO BUST OUT OF MY SKIN WITH BOREDOM, ANXIETY, AND IMPISH DESIRES.”  And there are some legitimate reasons to have some angst.  And the boredom, well, life has settled down.  The kids are more independent.  My job has taken roots and settled down.  As someone noted to me yesterday, “You have become too domesticated.”  Meaning my adventurous side, my wild and silly tendencies have been far too confined over the past couple of years.  I am feeling the cage walls of seriousness, deadlines, and responsibility.  The imp and the pioneer-adventure woman parts of me are screaming to be set free.  I need two things to mend the pricklies.  One, give myself permission to play and be appropriately impish. This I can do.  But two, I needed to find some serenity and re-center myself.  This was the problem I could not fix on my own.  I even repainted my living room and dining room shades of slate gray hoping this would create some order and calm in my environment.  The house looks nice, but the peace I was looking for did not come.

So I surrendered.  SERENITY NOW! (Those who love Seinfeld know what I am talking about.)  Seriously though, I began praying and asking for help with the pricklies.  This is probably the first “selfish request” I have made to God in several years.  My prayer life still has a ways to go.  As I figuratively begin to open my eyes, I am coming to believe the martin nest is an answer to this prayer.  They are nesting just feet from where I sit on the porch.  There is great serenity in watching and observing their patterns of nesting, guarding, and protecting their territory.  And there is a deep spiritual quality to what is occurring between us – we notice one another and remain respectfully curious.  The invitation to be a part of their lives is truly a gift and a blessing.  As my eyes opened to the immediate wonders around me, I found peace and serenity.  

Fighting the pricklies creates an angry tension within me.  Trying to stomp down desires for wild play crushes my spirit.  When I stop trying to control my world so tightly, when I recognize I cannot do it alone – that I need connection with God, friends, and nature, I always seem to find exactly what I am looking for.