In the wake of last week’s post on the dearth of birds and bees, I would like you to meet a brand-new tenant that came to us this year—new not only to our yard, but to its chosen abode. We are delighted. Up till now, none of our available housing choices has held any interest for them—trees, shrubs of assorted size and shapes, even sheltering overhangs. But this year, because we tend to be slow in getting rid of our trash, they found just the place. Who’d a thunk any bird would find this an attractive place for a nest?
I have loved house wrens since my mornings under the vines on Lydia’s back porch–cleaning horse leather or just talking about horses. The wrens loved those sheltering vines, and their bubbling song imprinted on my soul.
How lovely is your dwelling place,
Lord Almighty!
My soul yearns, even faints,for the courts of the Lord;
my heart and my flesh cry out
for the living God.
   Even the sparrow has found a home,
   and the [wren] a nest for herself,
   where she may have her young—
   a place near your altar,
   Lord Almighty, my King and my God.
Blessed are those who dwell in your house;
they are ever praising you.
A wren nesting near God’s altar?
But listen to this: “Don’t you know that you yourselves are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in your midst?” (1 Corinthians 3:16). The ice water of that thought makes me gasp.
~I dwell at 25 Liberty Street.
~The Lord God dwells in the temple that is me.
~A house wren dwells in a disreputable, cast-off chimney cap to “have her young—a place near your altar, Lord Almighty.”
Suddenly, the slum is gone. Instead,  glorious, bubbling praise from one of the tiniest of birds filling that great cathedral at 25 Liberty Street. God’s altar in my back yard.
P.S. My posting this summer will be somewhat haphazard, so please Subscribe to receive an automatic alert.