I'll admit that last year when we first moved to this house and I got to experience this early morning wake up call I wasn't too pleased. "Really?" I thought. "It's 4:30 in the morning!" I have since changed my attitude about the birds' song. I have decided that those little guys really have their priorities straight.
Every single morning the birds greet the rising sun with incredible joy. They sing out their joy, their thanks, their appreciation for each dawning day. They don't drag themselves out of the nest, grumpy and bleary eyed. They don't curse the rising sun. They don't instantly begin complaining about all of the "stuff" they have to do today.
Hundreds, maybe thousands of birds live in the trees behind my house. Now when I am awoken by their morning song I lie in bed and listen. I smile. I thank God that I am alive, for the rising sun, for the gift of this new day. Steve and I now leave our shades open at night so we can see our mountain view first thing each morning and be awed all over again at the magnificence of the display.
The same powerful force that forged that mountain, grew those thousands of trees, conceived of each different kind of bird, and created the rising sun created me. I don't need to worry, stress, fear, or bemoan the new day, no matter what ills I imagine it may bring. The birds don't, and surely I'm smarter than a bird, right?
The birds are brilliant. They know a good thing when they see it. They know what to do when faced with the gift of life, the anticipation of a new day, the magnificence of a rising sun.