For weeks-last year, I watched and waited. Daily, I snapped progress pictures.  I watched as bits of my yard, were woven into a home for a tiny red-breasted, family to be.  I observed a devoted momma , carefully build a softly lined home. I watched her mate keep a careful eye over her as she gathered, and wove.

Finally- came the big day.  When I peeked into the nest- it was no longer empty, it cradled tiny blue eggs.  I kept a safe distance- and watched her daily warm and tend them.

I watched carefully, because she had built her nest in the motion detector, flood light next to my patio door. The light goes on and off all night, as every racoon, bat and stray cat and possum, ambles by.   The flood light gets hot enough to burn your hand.   It was not a good place for the nest- but, we held our breath and hoped for the best. The eggs never hatched.  I, cried.

Recently, I again noticed bits of my yard being woven into a home in the flood light.  She was back. I felt sad for her.  Didn’t she remember?  DIdn’t she know?  The light and constant interruption of my rambunctious family would make it impossible once again, for her eggs to survive.

I worried.  I watched. I debated. “Do we pull the nest out and hope she moves somewhere safer?  Do we leave it and hope the un-hatched eggs were a fluke?”  I waivered daily- and then decided-it had to be done before it was too late. I asked my husband to pull out the yard bits that she’d so carefully woven, in hopes that she’d move on.  He did.  I cried.

A few days later- we watched as yard bits, again became woven.  This time?  It is in my favorite willow tree.  A much better place for her to nest.  I’m watching.  I’m waiting.  Maybe- maybe this year there will be a tiny family.  For now- I’m glad we did the hard thing- and un-rested her nest.

I’ve experienced this in my life- too. Not just in my yard.  I’ve tried to settle in where  I shouldn’t have.  I’ve made decisions that seemed like good ones at the time, only to have God lovingly reach down and unrest my nest- encouraging me to move along to a safer, or better place to nest.  Each time  it’s happened, I’ve questioned and felt angry at God… “Why would God rip up what I’ve worked so hard to build?”

Over time, I’ve learned that when God un-rests my nest- He has a reason for it.  Sometimes, I find out (later) what the reason is-  sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I’ve found it had nothing to do with my choices- but with the changes God could make in my by stretching and growing be by re-building. Slowly- I’m learning to trust Him and his direction, more than my perceptions and plans.

Maybe today- you feel like your nest is in unrest. Maybe you feel like what you’ve worked so hard to build, has been plucked out from your carefully chosen place.  Maybe you have questions, maybe you feel angry.  If so— I pray you find hope- in the truth that if God is unresting your nest— it will be for good, like it was for the Robin family in my backyard.

One of my favorite passages that give me hope in all nesting circumstances is Jeremiah 29:11-14-

11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. 12 Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. 13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. 14 I will be found by you,” declares the LORD, “and will bring you back from captivity. [b] I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you,” declares the LORD, “and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile.”

Dear Lord- I pray that you’d guide and direct the weaving of our lives and homes- I love and trust you- no matter what- amen

vintage post;)