The other day I was in my garden, weeding. Now it’s been tough keeping up with the weeds and dealing with issues lik
e too much exposure to sun. Shamefully, I’ve resorted to Glycoside to kill the young weeds coming up through my mulch. If the weeds get too big, I just get down and get dirty, doing hand combat with a hand trowel in one hand, pulling the weeds and knocking the dirt off of the roots. If the weeds have seeds, they go in a bucket to be piled and burned. If they are young weeds, they are laid out as a ground cover.
With my back to the heavens, I was oblivious to a group of juvenile martins that flew in and perched above me. My wife stepped out onto the deck and called my name and pointed above me. “Well, hello there friends,” I offered. Some cocked their heads, looking down at me. Others preened their feathers and stretched their wings. “Are you going to come back next spring? I’ll have a place for you here. You’re certainly welcome.” I then jabbered some of the Pennsylvania Dutch phrases my Dad would say, hoping the birds would imprint on me as an Amishman… (It seems like the Amish always get purple martins.) Besides, maybe the birds came from an Amish farm in Geauga County!
I don’t know if these fly-ins will be imprinted with a prospective housing opportunity for next spring or not, but these martins have taught me some interesting things along the way. In my walk with Jesus, I wonder if my “imprinting” on the Kingdom Life here and now will create a familiarity with the Eternal Kingdom when I move on.
For now I’m enjoying the martin visits. They’ll soon be over.
Purple Martin Paul
