Woodpecker Symphony in T Minor

A while back, quite a while back, in fact, I penned several posts about various creatures of the fowl persuasion ... ducks, geese, owls, little black birds, hawks ... and I talked about how I've never cared much for any type of bird. I think maybe my dislike of birds stems from watching the old Alfred Hitchcock movie aptly named The Birds. That movie completely creeped me out, and for years I was always looking over my shoulder for fear that a group of birds would suddenly swoop down and attack me. I don't understand people who like birds ... I mean, come on ... they poop everywhere, including on my head when I'm walking on the trail or through the open sunroof of my car when I'm driving; they are extremely noisy early in the morning and wake me from a rare night of sound sleep; they leave feathers on my deck which in turn makes my dogs go crazy from the scent that's left behind; and they build nests in my gutters, hanging flower baskets and even my grill. There, I've said it, and I apologize to you bird lovers out there ... I don't like birds. Period.

Yesterday, I went for a very long bike ride, an hour and 45-minute bike ride along my beloved walking trail that I've written so much about. The trail is well-known in Kansas City partly because it's almost 17 miles long and follows quite a scenic route through the southern area of town. I rode farther than I have since I took up riding again, covering the part of the trail that runs deep into the woods. I had slowed down to watch some deer through the trees and decided I should stop to take a drink of water and eat a snack when I heard the sound of woodpeckers pounding away on a tree. The deer meandered along, and I rested against a tree on the side of the trail eating, drinking and listening to the loud noise of the woodpeckers. I wonder where they are, I thought as I gazed up into the tall trees. And of course my next thought was, I wonder if they're planning an attack and if they're going to swoop down and peck on my bike helmet ... I should get out of here now!! But in spite of those completely irrational thoughts and the fear that began to creep in around my brain, I stood there ... I stood there eating, drinking and listening to the loud noise of the woodpeckers.

As I finished off my protein bar and gulped the last sip from my first bottle of water (yes, I take more than one bottle for those of you who think I still don't drink enough water), I couldn't help but notice that there was a rhythm to the sound the birds were making. The longer I stood there listening, the more it reminded me of a grand orchestra being led by a master conductor in its playing of the glorious notes of a symphony. I'm not sure how long I stood there listening, but I am sure that God began to speak to me through the sounds of the woodpecker symphony that was resounding all around me. My tears began to flow as He reminded me of how small I am and how big He is, of how weak I am and how strong He is. 

You are the conductor of the orchestra, Father ... of all the parts and pieces of my life, and I'm the symphony .. the symphony in T minor. I'm nothing ... absolutely nothing ... I am so minor in the big picture. You alone, Lord, can make music flow from the pain ... You alone, Lord, can make music flow from the sorrow ... You alone, Lord, can make music flow from the brokenness. Thank You, God, for the woodpecker symphony ... thank You for being so much bigger than me ... thank You for the Woodpecker Symphony in T minor, Lord ... thank You.