Winter Seed

My kitchen window has an incredible view. I can look through the long panes of glass, six feet or more, out into our yard. We have a tree stump in clear view of the kitchen window. It is what remains of a very, very large maple tree. The tree had to be cut down because it was dead—hollow and leaning precariously toward our house.

Some of it has been cut into scraps and firewood, but a stump, almost six feet long and two and a half feet in diameter, remains. There have been times I found the stump an eyesore and a nuisance. Many times I have said I want it gone.

But right now, I am so glad that it is here. We have been scattering birdseed on the top of the toppled trunk. Just plain birdseed, nothing fancy. During our last snow, I covered the trunk thickly with seeds and nuts and even a few cranberries left over from Christmas.

The birds have found the seed. And they must have told their neighbors—woodpeckers, cardinals, blue jays, chickadees, and starlings have made appearances. Squirrels too—sitting on their haunches and furiously nibbling the food in their tiny paws. Watching them all has been a delight.

They came because there was food. They came because I took the time, effort and the little funds to scatter seed to feed them.

Just a simple act, nothing elaborate, produced, performed, or choreographed. I just wanted to provide a little nourishment for the birds in the yard.

Today as I watched the flock, I felt my heart swell and begin to hurt. I know when this happens, the Holy Spirit is trying to get my attention; He wants me to see something—to be aware. My eyes brimmed and my nostrils burned.

Come eat.
Taste and see that the Lord is good.
I will feed you the richest of fare.
I will set a table in the wilderness for you.
Manna will never taste so good as what I offer you now.

I want to feed God’s people in whatever capacity that means.

I want to find a rotten, useless stump and turn it into a banquet table.