Robins announce so much in our neighborhood. When it rains, they are after worms. When the lawn has been mowed, they scurry around looking for bugs. A freshly filled birdbath or lawn sprinkler seems to be an invitation for every robin in the neighborhood to show up in our yard. I used to think they were the harbingers of spring but they seem to hang around all year long.
I remember a late winter (or early spring) day, when a cold front surprised everyone, including our robins. There had been some warmer days but suddenly it was winter again, and the robins seemed grounded by the weather. Usually. they disappear for a few days when weather is poor but this front caught even them unaware, as I noticed a small flock of robins, scurrying back and forth on our snow-covered street that two days earlier clean and dry. They usually hunker down in the thickets and trees on our walking path when there is a weather change. But these were literally running, as if in panic mode, on the pavement. I knew they weren’t looking for worms, but was struck by a sight I had never seen before. There must have been a hundred of them running, not in the grass but on the street. Maybe it was only because the road was warmer than the grass. Whatever was up, it was comical watching so many robins running around like chickens with their heads cut off.
Why do I remember that moment? Unless it was simply a visual reminder of how I often feel around similar scenes that play out every day? You know what I mean, don’t you; like when you get comfortable with a routine or “the way things are” and suddenly a storm of life knocks us down like a punch in the gut? How confusing when promises are broken, lies are revealed, or someone we were dependent on is no longer available! So often we must appear to the angels in heaven like a flock of confused robins when we are bewildered by what we didn’t’ expect and start running around, maybe even to the point of panic. That is what we feel like when it is difficult to eat, sleep, or find any peace. We react with confusion when a blast of cold air invades a comfortable life, or lightning flashes and thunder rolls when we were so used to peace and quiet. There are times we are like that flock of robins unaware of what is going on or where to turn. We have all experienced such frantic scurrying around when overwhelmed by the unexpected.
Robins react as only birds can, but we have the ability for more as we understand our access to the loving presence of a God who has worked overtime to make us certain of his care and in revealing his active and loving grace. There was a day in Jesus’ ministry when he went out of his way to make that point. He pointed to a small flock of sparrows and assured the crowd God cared for even the smallest sparrow in that flock and nothing could happen that God was not aware of. Jesus used that word picture to make the more important point of God’s love for us, who are of more value and presence than even the smallest bird.
Each of us has faced something this week or month that affected us the same way as that silly flock of robins dancing in the snow. Whether through rainbows, water crossings, Bethlehem’s manger or Calvary’s empty garden tomb, God has gone to extraordinary lengths to assure us of his active presence and his caring love. This approach is no different than when he stilled a storm for those disciples on the sea, or raised Lazarus from his four-day stay in a tomb. Because you are loved by God, no matter what comes out of the blue, you have the option of allowing God’s peace to overwhelm what is so tempting to overreact to. We always have two choices when storms catch us unaware; we can scurry in circles like robins in the snow or allow God’s incredible, powerful, and true peace to keep us safely in the hands of our God of love.