I heard them the other night. They sing in the dark you know.
I like to sleep with the windows wide. And on this one particular night they woke me with their song. They were singing soprano, bass, tenor and even alto. I heard them in melody. Acapello style. Never singing together. Never interrrupting. Politely and patiently they waited for their solo. Their song of praise.
(Photo Credit: Jill Miller Woodie)
For some reason I have envisioned all these years these tiny birds with such vocals sleeping at night. Hunkering down and giving in to the dark, deep in the woods, or in their nests high in the trees, under covered porches, barn trusses. And most do, but some of them sing in the dark too. I know, I heard them.
Why is it I have never heard such a masterpiece in the light of day? Perhaps the birds have been singing their song all along in the dark and me, well I have failed in the quiet to listen. Until now.
My dear sweet friend Ann. My Sister in Christ. Her husband called. ‘Do you need anything honey?’ And she answered in her weak voice, ‘I need some Bibles. These nurses here need Bibles.’ Tommy has been helping spread the Gospel for years as a servant of the Gideons and Ann was no stranger to sharing Christ’s love, both in deed, word, and giving away the Holy Book. She served alongside her husband for many years and even on her last days of breath, she sung her song, even in the dark.
On this night, the weeds they’re trying to stifle out the strongest of plant here in my garden. I hammer a stake into the hard ground, the stake that holds the twine that holds the growing tomato plant. The wood splinters as the hammer makes an echo and I think of the Roman soldier. The one who held the spike and pounded the sharp into Christ’s skin, His hands and feet. Into the cross. This one soldier, his face and hands splattered with Holy. Did he realize just how powerful those drops of blood were that covered his arms, face, his entire being?
My eyes, they quickly stream tears mixing with the dirt of my sweat with just the thought. Right there in the garden. Me holding the hammer.
It’s almost nightfall. Another dark night. Rains coming they say. Whoever they are. And I think of Christ’s suffering. And the blessed hope. And Ann. And the birds’ song.
These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.
John 16:33 (KJV)