Have you ever read a book that just stayed with you? The one that said so much more than it intended. Mine was a children’s book. The entire book circled round and round a simple, single question. “Are You My Mother?”
It was a little story about a baby bird who finds himself lost. Page after page tells of the bird’s unrelenting search for its mother. I quickly found myself drawn into this little feathered friend’s constant longing. A longing to feel part of something. To sit close and be one with something. To understand from where he’d come.
I believe we all must feel this unyielding pull. This tugging into a place of beginnings. Nothing makes much sense without it.
The baby bird in the story had the right idea. He asked each person, place and thing if they were his mother. Though they each answered no, his enduring memory of first love drove him on.
Who can unearth the place it all began? Place full of sweet belonging? I understand little bird’s carrying heavy heartbreak. We sometimes spend a lifetime longing to settle back into familiar love.
There’s another defining book that just stays with me. The entire book circles round and round a simple, single question. Are You my Father? I was first drawn to the Bible while searching for the place I belonged. A place where love lived. Just one stable, steadfast love.
I was much like the baby bird. I spent days, months, a lifetime asking every person, place and thing if they were the one true love. My one true love. Then, just when the journey seemed without end, I turned and there it was.
The same love I was born of. God designed every moment of light and life, holding and molding me throughout the journey. I am open book, incomplete story, full of twists and turns. My defining moments rising out of each chapter. I am swept into this true love story the Author has fashioned. Full of deep, unrelenting love from beginning to end. A place to belong. The only place I ever belonged.
If you are wondering what happened to that baby bird, he never gave up. Eventually he did find his mother. Just like us, his journey led him to many things he thought would answer the longing. In time perseverance and perspective drew him to the truth.
I wish for us a bit of baby bird bravery. He just kept asking the question. Even when answers were hard to come by and asking was risky.
Let’s be bold. Don’t give up the search. Won’t you agree risk is worth the promise of a happy ending?