Mom hated magpies chattering outside her bedroom window. Climbing the spruce tree to root out their nests became an annual ritual.
At the golden age of 79 she hung on for dear life as she clung to the tree on her downward climb. A high wind assailed her. When my sister called, she related this incident to her. “Mom, you don’t need to be doing that anyway,” she said. “Couldn’t you get someone to help you?”
“Next year I’ll ask the neighbor boy to do it.”
A year later she talked to my sister on the phone again. “Mom, did you get the neighbor boy to climb the spruce tree this year?”
“No, I did it myself. I was afraid he might get hurt.”
When nests of dust, fuss and cat hair collect in my spruce tree, I want to let all my housework go. Then I think of Mom and the magpies. Then Lord encourages me. When magpies chatter, God is my hope.
Oh God, when I hear magpies, remind me to be diligent as Mom was up in that spruce tree. I pray in Jesus’ name and for His glory and honor. Amen.
“Mom and the Magpies” found publication in Broken Streets, and Spiritual Voice News. It also appears in Lynn’s Book, Our Lifeship: A Study in Proverbs for Women. © 1996 Lynn Wallace. www.writingfrommyheart.com. PayPal.