NESTED

My son-in-law was helping trim up a fir tree when he came upon an abandoned bird nest. How small, how meticulously put together with twigs and mud. What a builder, probably a swallow (known as a restless bird, always flitting about) or a sparrow (symbolizing utter loneliness in Psalm 102:7). Both birds (common to us!) also flew in and out of the Bible's tabernacle and the temple

Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young—a place near your altar, O LORD Almighty, my King and my God.(Psalm 84:3)

Remembering this verse, I thought of how this home, where I've lived for nearly 42 years, became the “nest” for two little ones who grew up to be responsible, loving adults. Especially through their dad's final illness, and my new journey without him, I have appreciated their love and support.

But that little nest said more to me. Though no longer needed in my yard's fir tree, it was a “history” of where the bird parents raised their family, teaching those hungry hatchlings over and over, over and over. Showed them how to fly, find food, and make their own way in the world. Released them from the nest. How much a picture of human parenting! (Well, I didn't teach my kids to fly but driver's ed was equally scary!)

Swedish hymn-writer Carolina Sandell Berg noted these things in lyrics for her tender, enduring hymn:

Children of the heavenly Father safely in His bosom gather

Nestling bird nor star in heaven such a refuge e'er was given.

One phrase in Psalm 84:3 always makes me pause: “a place near your altar, O LORD Almighty.” Both the ancient tabernacle and temple, given their size and construction, couldn't keep out the birds. Thus many nested in places they deemed safe. Probably their chosen “safe place” was atop a wall or in a niche—not on a hot altar where sacrifices were burned. But who's to say the birds didn't fly down at night to inspect things—even altars--when all was calm and the ashes cool?

And could that also be a picture of human home life at night? When my son and daughter were younger, we tucked them into bed with stories and prayer. Yes, the “family altar” of seeking God. How touching to hear them pray for their own needs, other family members and their friends. Under-girding their prayers: the trust in the Lord Almighty, their King, their God. Now they do the same with their children.

“Nested” near HIS altar. Our King and our God. There's no better place to be.

NESTED

Years of putting off trimming the arborvitae had turned it into a monster hedge probably fifteen feet high. Our servant-hearted son came by to help his dad finish the arduous task. In doing so, they pulled out a small nest, carefully wound with twigs and plastic strips, well glued with mud. Sturdy, hidden, it had served its purpose as a bird's nursery.

“Even the sparrow has found a home,” wrote one of the temple musicians, “and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young—a place near your altar, O LORD Almighty, my King and my God” (Psalm 84:3). It's a beautiful set of words to inscribe on sacred art. It's also a beautiful reminder how God cares for even the humblest birds.

First: context. It's believed this psalm was written by one of the temple workers (“sons of Korah”) who had to be absent from his duties in Jerusalem for a while. While we acknowledge that God doesn't dwell in the structures we call now churches, for ancient Jews the temple was revered and respected. From the rituals for sacrifices to even the places where its janitors served (the “parbar” or western colonnades), everything was prescribed and honored.

Yet birds came and found homes. As they chirped and flittered about, carrying on bird life, they had protection and purpose. Notice: these were not powerful birds (like eagles) or beautiful ones (like peacocks). They were ordinary bird life. Sparrows symbolized something almost worthless. Bible-time boys who caught sparrows to sell worshipers for sacrifices could earn two farthings (the smallest, least valuable copper coin) for five birds. Swallows are known for always flitting about. Yet when it comes times to nest and hatch eggs, they settle down. What an image of finding our peace and purpose in God. Such was the observation of St. Augustine (A.D. 354-530) in his famed quote: “Our hearts are restless till they rest in thee.”

This whole psalm throbs with a yearning for authentic worship: “Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you” (84:4). But the psalm doesn't stay inside the temple:

Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage. (v. 6)

In those days, a trip wasn't as simple as filling the car with gas and hitting the highway. Travel was by cart, animal or sandaled feet. It was hard and hot. It took days and days. But the traveler to Jerusalem kept his eye on the goal: the temple, a divinely-planned, human-constructed worship center. A place to come apart and focus of God's holy character, divine plan and perfect purpose.

The psalm ends with this encouraging word:

The Lord bestows favor and honor; No good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless. (v. 11)

This is not some paste-on-every-situation verse. It's a statement of the character of God. Even in pain and loss, we will eventually learn the “good thing” He could bring of it—if we strive to walk close with him, with “blamelessness.” It's the same principle as Romans 8:28: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him.”

We don't always have those blessings in our line of vision. Sometimes, like a little bird nest, they're tucked away behind layers of ordinary branches and needles. But if God could give perches and protection to birds, can He not also take care of me? Jesus affirmed that truth: “Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows” (Matt. 20:31). Even abandoned nests attest to that.