Spiritual Direction: Feeding Birds in Winter
“I don't feed the birds because they need me; I feed the birds because I need them.”
― Kathi Hutton
When I’m with someone for Spiritual Direction, I like to use a rhythm similar to what follows. I’ll start with a poem or a picture to invite them into spiritual direction, which is a time set aside from the hustle of life to reflect and listen. I’m using this pattern as I explore this year how the quotidian moments, the extremely ordinary events, are infused and animated by the sacred.
Spiritual Direction: Setting the Scene
After a very mild December, Old Man Winter stormed into our region last week. Snow covers trees, yards, and fences-everything. It’s a white wonderland for me, cozy in my warm house. After the first few inches fell, I noticed birds on the bush outside my window. I’ve been a bit preoccupied lately, recovering from two surgeries and all…But the little chickadees and house sparrows looking for food on bare branches in the middle of a frozen landscape moved me to action. I went to the garage and found an almost empty bag of birdseed from last winter. I threw handfuls between our house and the bush, where the snow wasn’t too deep. Quickly, birds found the unexpected abundance.
As the snow has continued to fall and freeze, I’ve had to modify the handful-of-seed-thrown-out-haphazardly program. The morning after the biggest storm, I found a tin lid from a box of Christmas cookies that fit perfectly into a summer plant stand. I waded into the snow and placed my make-shift birdfeeder in a spot I could see from my desk. Right now, as I write this, from the corner of my eye, I can see birds fluttering around and eating.
Spiritual Direction: Let Your Soul Arrive
I pulled a chair up to the window, sat, and watched the birds. I invited my soul to be still, settle down, and arrive in the moment. I want to anticipate what spiritual direction feeding the birds in winter might hold for my soul.
Spiritual Direction Question: How is Your Soul Moved?
The chickadees, house sparrows, and other birds are on a razor's edge of survival. It’s frigid, with temperatures near zero. Deep, frozen snow covers the ground. Where food is usually found on the ground, under the bushes, and trees are inaccessible right now. Predators are hungry, too.
In my own life right now, navigating the questions, anticipations, and realities of breast cancer, I (at times) feel anxious, nervous, scared, and frantic to find answers and understand the un-understandable.
My soul whispers; watch the birds. The birds out my window are active but not frantic in their season of trial. My invisible hand keeps their abundance flowing. I know visible and invisible hands are offering me abundance, support, help, answers, and comfort too.
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