We journey into the Weeping Cherry to check on the beautiful eggs. Something’s not right; the birds have fled and we see fragments of those precious eggs all over the ground. A predator–maybe a squirrel, a bluejay, or a chipmunk–has feasted on our eggs.
The girls hold a little funeral. I begin asking questions. I have to know what a Sweet Robin does when her nest falls apart. How can she move on? What does she do? Does this happen often?
I learn from an expert that this is common. The Sweet Robin actually learns from the event. She builds a new nest in a better location and lays a new clutch within 10 days.
She starts fresh. That’s what she does.
I sit in this reality for a few hours. I think about the ways things fall apart. I think about ways God invites us to start fresh. It’s funny because at that very moment, another rejection comes from a publisher who wanted something different. The Sweet Robins learns and then builds anew. So shall I.
I sit in this reality for a few hours. And then, I start again with a fresh page.
Meanwhile, we stomp around the garden in the early morning hours to see what’s happening. True, there’s no nest to observe, but we do find the most beautiful blooms in the berry patch.
I tell my youngest that with every bloom, a berry will come. Soon, we’ll have strawberries and blueberries. We’ll have more blackberries and raspberries than we can eat in one season.
We aren’t watching eggs, but we are watching berries.
We learn. We rebuild. We look for new blooms.
God is good.
Don’t you love the Sweet Robin’s perseverance?