June 27, 2007 The alarm won't go off for another 45 minutes, but a virtual chorus of birds is heralding the new day like it is their job to cheer the sun over the horizon. As I lay there listening, soaking up the serenity, punc-tuated though it was by the chatter, I remembered a little story I had read not so long ago. A woodpecker was pecking away at a tree when all at once there was a loud reverberating cr-r-r-ack, accompanied by a streak of lightning. The tree split right down the middle, and the little bird thought, "Wow! I did all that?"
Not sure exactly where those thoughts were taking me, I decided to take advantage of this little slot of time I'd been handed and get ahead of the busyness of the day. Was there a little parable in there for me to pass on to the rest of you? I thought about "The early bird gets the worm,'' but remembered I'd recently heard that statement de-valued by "The worm doesn't always go to the early bird—sometimes it goes to the lazy dude who wants to find a less energy-sapping way."
Was the parable about the bird who somehow thought the universe revolved around himself, who had an exaggerated view of his importance in the overall scheme of things and took credit where no credit was due?
Or...perhaps there was no parable. Perhaps our church's first-ever weekend campout culminating in a worship time under a cathedral ceiling of treetops, with the sun glistening through, had just started my week off to hear what was really worth hearing: all nature singing, and around me ringing...the music of the spheres.