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  • July 11, 2014 - Reflections

    By Jean S. Horner
    The other day while walking down a corridor in a public building, I saw what appeared to be someone walking toward me. On coming closer, I found it was my own reflection in a huge mirror. For a moment it frightened me. Somehow a full-length reflection of one’s self is a startling thing. ...


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August 30, 2011 - A Better Way

By Beatrice Northcutt

I was looking out my bedroom window when I saw her. The wren hopped cautiously along the back bumper of the car. In her beak was a large twig, and she carefully managed to push it up to the hole in the taillight lens of our car and gracefully hopped inside. She disappeared from sight and stayed inside for a while as her mate flew up to the entrance and peeped inside. She came back to the entrance and both flew away to land in a tree close by.

I knew this was not a good place for them to have a nest, so while they were gone I plugged the hole with a rag.

I watched as she returned with a piece of soft, white paper in her beak and came hopping along the bumper again. She came to the hole and attempted to find the entrance so she could enter. She pushed at the rag with her tiny feet, then sat on the bumper and looked at it again. Again she pushed and poked, trying to gain entrance, but seeing it was to no avail she flew away with her nesting material and landed in a tree.

Later in the day I saw the two of them back again. She had a twig in her beak and the two of them tried with all their might to find a place to get through. After jumping around from one place to another, inspecting every place around the edge, they finally gave up and flew away. This time they didn’t return.

I felt bad about closing their place for a nest, but knew we would move the car and their eggs would get cold. My husband built them a birdhouse and put red plastic across one side so it would look like the taillight. He hung it in a tree with the hope this lovely little pair of wrens would find it and finish their happy home.

I knew something the little wrens couldn’t know, so in love for them I closed the hole. How much like our Heavenly Father, who knows all things; at times, He has to close some gates for us and say, “This is not for you, my child.” How, like the wrens, we keep coming back to the same gate until we understand a loving hand has shut it tight. But He always makes a better way — a safer way for us. All we have to do is follow His leading and look for it!

— Beatrice Northcutt lives in Independence, Kansas.




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