Sherry Sterling

Dear friends,

Watching finches at my bird feeder a few days ago, I saw one fluttering its wings while perched, looking helpless—the signal of a baby bird to its parent to feed it. I guessed that the parent was the finch right next to the fluttering baby, also at the feeder, maybe showing the baby how to get seed from inside the mesh of the feeder. When the baby tried, its wings calmed against its back for a moment. Then it fluttered its wings again, as if protesting, “I don’t like this new way! Feed me!” As if the effort to push its beak into the feeder was too much, compared to opening wide its beak to be fed (along with fluttering its wings like crazy). The parent stayed, seemingly continuing to demonstrate how to feed oneself. The baby tried again, and again the wings calmed. Then the parent flew to the adjacent feeder. The baby stayed and fed at the first feeder. All was fine. Until the parent returned, and the baby fluttered its wings again. And waited to be fed.

I thought about how I can be like that baby bird, feeling helpless at times, fearing that I’m not ready yet—for whatever is in front of me. I can feel anxious about doing something on my own the first several times, wanting to keep being taught. Sometimes I need space to figure it out on my own. And sometimes I just need a little encouragement, someone to be near while I take a deep breath and look closer at the details myself. I wonder if this is how the early disciples felt when Jesus was taken up into heaven—Wait! Feed us more! We’re not ready to do it on our own! Are we? Are you sure?

Today is Ascension Day in the church calendar. As I read the lectionary selections for today, I’m wondering if one message is that the Holy One deemed the disciples ready to engage what they’d learned, no longer needing to be fed like baby birds, now able to take in solid nourishment and take on the work they were given to do. Somehow, this gives me comfort—that even when I feel the internal fluttering of anxiety, I just might be ready, with God’s ever-near presence, to take that next step, fold my fluttery fears behind me, and move forward.

Peace and love,

—Sherry