Talking Birds and Why We Need to Write
by Sarah Schwerin
“But you are the ones chosen by God, chosen for the high calling of priestly work, chosen to be a holy people, God’s instruments to do his work and speak out for him, to tell others of the night-and-day difference he made for you—from nothing to something, from rejected to accepted,”
I stopped. The woods were silent. Wiping sweat from my forehead, I continued walking. Birds don’t speak. Yet I had heard a bird speaking.
A group of hikers approached from the opposite end of the trail. I stepped aside and let them pass. The words repeated. I turned. Twigs snapped and leaves rustled. No one in the group had spoken.
I continued the climb up the mountain, puffing and sweating. The loneliness of the writer’s life had taken its toll. My brain was mush after all the rejection. I was hearing voices.
In front of me, a flight of steep stairs loomed. I inhaled and climbed, planning to increase my exercise regime when I returned home.
The bird song repeated, “I need you.”
With each step, I repeated the message to myself, but knew no one needed me. My teenage boys were practically men. They didn’t need me. My husband enjoyed spending time with me, but he didn’t need me either.
A year ago, I began seriously writing and as the rejections piled up, I believed no one needed me or my words.
I reached the top of the stairs. The forest spread beneath me and above me. Wildflowers outlined the stream. Trees reached to the cloudless sky. The sound repeated.
“I need you.”
Could God be sending me a message?
God didn’t need me. He was all knowing, all powerful, all everything. What difference could I make?
At the top of the summit, I followed the arrow on the sign and the bird song repeated. “I need you.”
The waterfall drowned out the bird’s message. The spray cooled me and a peace settled on me.
God doesn’t need me. Yet—he wants me.
He chose me.
I descended the mountain. My muscles were sore, but my mind was at peace. I was going back to my family. They didn’t need me, but they chose me and I chose them. I was going back to the writing and rejection, not because God needed my words but because He called me to write. He chose me.
I heard the bird song once again. Now the song was only notes, no longer the words I had heard. I guess God knew I didn’t need them at that moment.
Lord, thank you for choosing us. Guide us on the trail of following you, not because you need us, but because you want us.
Sarah Schwerin, gained her love of stories as a child when she created adventures to help herself fall asleep. She has been published in Whispers of Grace, Macaroni Kid, ChristianDevotions.Us and Refresh Bible Study Magazine. She speaks to Bible Studies and community groups about her journey from abuse to healing. Connect with her online: https://sarahschwerin.com/, www.facebook.com/SchwerinAuthor/