Whenever I Hear the Song of a Bird


As a young boy, I stood one wintery night gazing at the wonders of nature which surrounded me. It was an especially beautiful, crisp night. I observed the soft blanket of snow as it accepted the brilliance of a full moon that gently illuminated the entire surrounding spectacle. On nights like this, cars could drive without lights and animals could be observed lying, playing, or just wandering about. I felt like I could just stand and watch it forever. Nights were often like this in Big Sky Country, especially in my small hamlet of Beazer, nestled in the foothills of the Rockies.

As the moon gently marched across the sky, the stars emerged to provide their own firmamental elegance. Living in the country with no ambient light to detract from the spectacle, it was wonderful. It mesmerized my young, inquisitive mind and was to me, incomprehensible.


Orion stood stately to the southeast with his mighty sword at the ready. I loved him. Cassiopeia wobbled along in the eastern sky with its own heavenly majesty. In addition, of course, the Big Dipper was always right where it should be. It never gave up pointing to the North Star, the anchor of it all.

While standing quietly that night with an older brother-in-law, I asked, “There must be an end to it all somewhere. And if there is, what is beyond that?” He had no answer. Nor did I. We ruminated about the concept of “and worlds without number have I created” (Moses 1:33). It was puzzling to us that, if one counted all the stars, there had to be a final number. It made perfect sense.

Isaiah explains it in this way: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts” (Isaiah 55:8-9). I decided that I probably should forget about counting, and just appreciate the wondrous gift of it all.

Even at a very young age, I knew that there was a god, a great creator. There just had to be. I have never doubted it once. I think it is a gift from God and I thank Him every day for that. Who could watch the wonders of springtime and not marvel at a new creation emerging every year? Who could observe the triumphant emergence of a crocus from the lingering death of winter and deny there is a god? I loved spring as I watched the gentle sun spread warmth to the earth, and warm winds breathe new life to this marvelous creation given to us by a loving god.


The poet, Lord Alfred Tennyson, gave some great insight.


Flower in the crannied wall,

I pluck you out of the crannies,

I hold you here, root and all, in my hand,

Little flower – but if I could understand

What you are, root and all, and all in all,

I should know what God and man is.


(Jack M. Lyon and others, Poems That Lift the Soul, A Treasury of Faith and Inspiration [1998], 225)

The Lord asked Job a profound question. “Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? Declare, if thou hast understanding. Who hath laid the measures thereof, if thou knowest? Or who hath stretched the line upon it? Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? Or who laid the cornerstone thereof? When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?” (Job 38:4-7).


How could we not all shout for joy as we deliberate and reverently acknowledge the love and power of almighty God? We see it manifest all around us if we but look. We are blessed by it every day.

God himself eloquently describes His creation. “For I, the Lord God, created all things, of which I have spoken, spiritually, before they were naturally upon the face of the earth. . . And I, the Lord God, formed man from the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul (Moses 3:5,7).

Even more wondrous, He has not stopped creating and giving. That thought is expressed eloquently in the following poem.


He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater,

He sendeth more strength when the labors increase;

To added affliction, he addeth his mercy,

To multiple trials, his multiplied peace.


When we have exhausted our store of endurance,

When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,

When we reach the end of our hoarded resources,

Our Father’s full giving is only begun.


His love has no limit, his grace has no measure,

His power no boundary known unto men;

For out of his infinite riches in Jesus,

He giveth and giveth and giveth again.


(Lyon, Poems That Lift the Soul, 105)

Not only is He the great Creator, but He also watches over it all and nourishes His unfathomable creation. Every head should bow and reverently give thanks to a loving, attentive Lord.

I love to sing. Some of the most profound truths regarding God and His beautiful creation come from the mouths of children as they sing simple, heartfelt primary songs. This is one of my favorites.

Humming Bird

My Heavenly Father Loves Me

Whenever I hear the song of a bird

Or look at the blue, blue sky,

Whenever I feel the rain on my face

Or the wind as it rushes by,

Whenever I touch a velvet rose

Or walk by our lilac tree,

I’m glad that I live in this beautiful world

Heavenly Father created for me.

(“My Heavenly Father Loves Me,” Children’s Songbook, 228)