For Warren’s birthday back in March, Kelley and Ben got him a hummingbird feeder. It came in a fancy back pack. Warren had seen the effects of having such a device at a friend’s home and couldn’t wait to hang his by our own window.
The first attempt to welcome our tiny, feathered friends proved disappointing. It seemed logical to place the feeder on our back “patio” (read: bike storage area) since it had the largest viewing spot from our sliding glass door. But if you’ve ever been to our sad, little hole of a dwelling, you’ll know that no living thing would want to spend any time out there: no trees, no flowers, no shrubbery at all even. Just a dreary looking cement area as dirty as can be thanks to our landscaper’s leaf blower. But we decided that we would hang it up there nonetheless and wait and hope for the speedy little creatures to find their way to our sugar water.
After many, many weeks with no result, Warren started to get a bit discouraged. He was losing hope that any would show. I asked him if we should pray for the hummingbirds to come. He agreed that it would help.
Several more weeks passed by and my sweet Renny asked where they were. He had prayed for them almost daily. Surely they would come, right? Yes, Heavenly Father heard his prayers, he decided.
It was at the point that my heart began feeling more than a little tender that no birds had shown that I had a prompting: move the feeder to the front of our apartment. There are bushes there and an apricot tree on the other side of the fence. It was a simple thought. Something I should have considered earlier but somehow overlooked. I told Warren the new plan. We waited again.
Then one evening, while coming home from our Saturday’s activities, we walked up to the front of our apartment and stopped in pure amazement. There we found one little hummingbird hovering above the feeder, inspecting the treat we had placed for him so long ago. I whispered to Warren not to move too close and we all stood still watching it drink before it raced away. Oh, if I could have captured the look on Warren’s face.
My heart swelled with gratitude. It was such a little thing, seeing a bird come to drink at a bird feeder. But to me, it was a literal and tangible answer to prayer. Even the smallest plea is heard. Warren knows that now, too. But, also, it was a reminder that if we are not where we should be, but are doing all we can, God will guide us to where we can flourish.
I can’t look at a hummingbird now without those truths sinking in a little bit deeper.