Bigger Picture Moment: Blessed To Proceed

White sunlight refracted from the surface of the swimming pool as we swam with the girls.  Lauren clung to her daddy's arms fiercely -- no mere water wings or life jackets or floating rings are ever enough to make her feel comfortably safe on her own.

But Mia had kicked herself over to hover near one side of the pool, alone, suspended over the depths by a white ring of floating plastic.  The shade from an old redbud tree craned itself over her head.  She stared up into the dark branches, squinting through flecked light; something had caught her interest. 

Propped safely under shielding boughs but lifted well off of the predatory ground, was a bird's nest.  Mia's searching eyes had found it there, camoflaged and hidden as it was, but that wasn't the truly interesting part; perched atop the nest was a mother robin, and every few moments, the reflexive, swaying head of a baby bird would stretch its neck upward to meet its mother's beak. 

Here was a mother feeding her babies -- three of them, we think -- while we splashed and squealed under the tree branches.  She wasn't frightened away by our noise, and we're certain she noticed us; her black eyes moved with us as we peeked into her peaceful scene. 

We scrambled closer to catch sight of the babies. We oooh'd and ahhh'd each time a wobbly, bulbous head popped up over the nest's edge.  In the yard beyond the swimming pool, a puppy chased an old, yellow dog, and their barks provided a startling percussion that never once ruffled that mother's feathers.  She stayed.  She had a job to do.  (And, realistically, that means that she probably had a gullet full of half-digested baby food to distribute.  Fair incentive to finish strong, right?)

Nuisances like peering eyes and squealing humans didn't send her fluttering from her nest.  Frights like barking dogs and chasing puppies weren't enough to deter her mission.  Oddities like a shuttered lense perched on the face of a nosy photographer couldn't unseat her.

She had babies to raise.  These extraneous interruptions were out of her control, and though they may have worried her, she had no choice but to move forward. 

As it turns out, her day became less hectic.  The dogs calmed down, the prying eyes went inside for naps, and the world kept spinning around her.  The blue sky was as it always had been.  The wind-blown leaves of the redbud were just as sheltering as they once were.  The mother, I imagine, relaxed.  There was no guarantee for her or her babies about what tomorrow would bring: another puppy-rumbling ruckus; more splashing with more kids; a windy day. 

Their lives had to proceed.  Their lives were blessed to proceed.  And who were they to turn down a blessing?

I like to think of them filling the sunrise with their voices for weeks to come; the throaty, hopeful call of a parent -- and the exuberant, up-pitched voices of her babies. 

We're seeing the Bigger Picture through simple moments -- moments that force us to stop and take notice of the ways our worlds are important, meaningful, and beautiful. Please join us here today! Grab the button, link up and then go forth and encourage the two people before you while they are walking this journey of intentional living.