The Robin Story

My Aunt Linda is living with Parkinson's Disease.

Her mom was my Grandma Marj.

Grandma Marj shared the love of bird-watching with each of us.

So, I am sending Aunt Linda my bird stories.

This morning I felt like I should share them publicly, as I mail them to her.

Some of you have read them or heard me speak of them.

They are deeply meaningful and so personal.

Yet, even though it feels so vulnerable to share, 

I believe they are meant to be shared.

This is one of those stories

that is a

"Know and Believe"

story.

Be encouraged.

In your mind.

In your heart.

In your spirit.

The Robin Story
It was May 3, 2008, in the midst of a spring blizzard on the South Dakota prairie.  I had come through a spring of cancellation after cancellation after cancellation for my business.  Canceling again and again the actions that I thought were necessary to see my dreams fulfilled.  My business was counting on these appointments that, due to weather, I had repeatedly cancelled from January to May.

At the same time, a childhood hobby of bird watching that had been shared with my Grandma Marj, had resurfaced.  Like I did as a child, I started to notice and cherish the birds I saw in my yard.  It had been a tender time with my grandma as a child.  For many years, it seemed to go dormant in my life, but that year, the seed of bird watching had sprouted again in my heart.  On the first day of the blizzard, May 1, 2008, I had taken some photographs of robins in the cottonwood tree in my yard.

Also at this time, I had begun to fill journal after journal with prayers and what seemed to me to be the Lord's tender and loving response.  Prayer had become a rich relational experience with the Lord.  A real relationship.  I seemed to finally be experiencing that Jesus is alive and I know Him and He knows me.  It was true.  Jesus was true.  I could have a relationship with Him now.  I did not have to wait until after this life to know Him.  This experience is one of those ways that I knew and know that He is:  after the repetition of cancellations I had made for the previous five months, I had just poured out my frustration to God on paper and this is what He seemed to answer...

My child, you have needed this time with Me.  Do you see the richness of your life?  The robins puffed up in the snow in your tree--can you buy something so beautiful or contain it as a pet?  No.  It's beauty is in it's freedom to live wildly according to My design.  And you get to see it in your front yard.  You have that richness all around you.  You do not have to possess it materially to have the blessing of that richness in your life.  As you take photographs, it is your recognition of those little blessings in the details that surround you right where you are.

In your hands, your captivity, your cage, My child, the robin would suffer and eventually die.  It would not be living as I designed it to live.  But in My hands it has the ability, even as a little bird, to survive, even a violent spring blizzard, and not only survive, but thrive.  In My hands.  Turn your hopes and dreams over from your hands to My hands, My child.  In your hands they will be limited and captive, but in Mine, they will be wild and free able to survive storms and thrive in the aftermath, and they will be beauty set free.  Whenever you see a robin, My child, let it remind you of the beauty, and freedom and thriving that exists in a life in My hands.

That is what was written in my journal that day.  It calmed my fretting and anxious heart.  I felt that I was held in the hand of God.  My cares had been cast upon Him, and He was caring for me.  I felt that He knew what my heart needed.  Even today, as I retype it, a fire of peaceful, cozy warm is ignited in my heart.  Just that, in my journal from my prayer time, would have been enough.
But then, about a week later, I am reading my favorite magazine.  Mary Engelbreit's Home Companion.  I come to a page with one of her paintings.  It is of a little boy standing holding his hands behind his back with a tree branch in them.  At his feet are three little robins and before his eye a robin in flight with a twig in its beak.  The painting is titled, "Little Robin".  "Oh, how sweet," I thought.  But what I saw next caused me to gasp and praise Him.  My heart was moved to worship when I read the quotes on the page.  The title was "Dream a Little Dream", and then five quotes about dreams. 

Here are two.

"So many of our dreams at first seem impossible, then they seem improbable, and then when we summon the will, they soon become inevitable."  Christopher Reeve. 

"I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character." Martin Luther King, Jr.

Prior to writing in my journal in my prayer time, I had never associated robins with my dreams.  They were two separate things.  Yet, it seemed He taught me to trust Him in that prayer time with my hopes and dreams.  He taught me to let them go ~ that He should hold them, not me.  That giving my dreams to Him was His design for my life.  That hanging on too tightly to my vision for my life would suffocate His design.  I was thinking that it "had to be this way" for my hopes and dreams to happen.  But even though there had been storm after storm, He still held me and my hopes and dreams in His hand, and there, all of it was safe, and there they would not only survive, but flourish and thrive.  Just like He holds the robin in the storm, He holds me in my storms.  As I read the quotes on that page about dreams and I saw the painting of the robins on the same page, I felt like the Lord Himself had sent me a love letter for my heart.  You can choose to call all of this a coincidence, but I will choose to glorify Him, to give Him the credit, the glory, the honor, and the praise.  It seemed to be a confirmation to me personally.  Just a special little thing so that I would know.  That I may know that He is the Lord and there is no other.

Do you have a "That You May Know Story"?  If so, I encourage you to document it.  Write it in a journal.  Take a photograph that reminds you.  Paint or draw a picture.  Write a letter to your kids or grandkids so they may know your story.  Whatever you are inspired to do. 

If you do not have your story yet, pray for it.  Seek Him with all your heart and He will be found by you.  Believe this truth: Jeremiah 29:13-14 says, "And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart.  I will be found by you says the LORD."  Begin seeking Him wholeheartedly.  He knows how you will know.

*

Photos and words property of Jodene Shaw.  

Do not copy, reprint or distribute without permission. Thank you.

My Snowy Owl Story

Psalm 139:1

O LORD, you have searched me and known me.

The story of this owl begins with a little girl

sitting at a table with her grandmother drinking apple cider

and eating a bowl of crackers.

This grandma taught her to delight

in the beauty and uniqueness of each bird.

To become fascinated and have wonder

with what is right outside your window.

Precious shared time.

Together.

The names were important.

To know their names,

was to identify them as a masterpiece.

Sweet, sweet times of togetherness.

That are a memory today.

I went to school thinking

everyone knew the names of the birds.

I did not realize that it was a

special thing

that my grandma had shared with me.

But it was indeed special.

In 2009,

I was going through a transition

and my heart wandered back

to memories of Grandma & the birds.

I said a little prayer, something like this:

LORD, I'd love to see some of those favorites

that Grandma would have celebrated with me...

a lazuli bunting, a rosebreasted grosbeak, and a Baltimore oriole.

On May 16, 2009,

I called my mom and asked if she had

Grandma's photos--

the ones Grandma had taken of the birds

in her yard.

As I was talking to her on the phone,

a rose-breasted grosbeak appeared

in the cottonwood tree in my yard.

I was so excited I grabbed my camera,

stood on the dining room chair,

while my mom said, with a laugh, to just call her back,

and my son told me, "Mom, you are so funny."

I was so thrilled!

I went for a walk on cloud-nine.

As I returned, there was a Baltimore oriole,

bright like orange-sherbert & shiny black,

on my mother-in-law's birdfeeder.

AWESOME!  Two birds, same day!

That afternoon on my birdfeeder in my yard:

a lazuli bunting: blue, orange & white.

ALL THREE.

One prayer.  Three birds.  Same day.

It had been 10 years since I had seen a lazuli bunting and an oriole.

I had not seen a rose-breasted grosbeak since I was about seven years old.

Delight yourself in the LORD,

And He will give you the desires of your heart.

Psalm 37:4

A few weeks ago, Jim and I were with a group of neighbors,

some had never heard my bird story.

We were talking about the playfulness of Jesus,

sparked by John Eldredge's new book Beautiful Outlaw.

Check it out here:  http://www.beautifuloutlaw.net/

I am sitting there and in my mind, I hear these words:

Tell them about the birds.

"Really?" I think.  My heart starts to pound.

I think to myself, "They are going to think I am such a nerd."

My heart is pounding, my ears are on fire, bright red, I'm sure,

and my face feels flushed.

And again, I hear:

Come on, just tell them about the birds. Tell them.

So I did.

Prior to this evening of sharing my bird story,

I had posted on my facebook page, that I would love to get some photos

of a snowy owl. 

We live at a little dot on the map, on the South Dakota prairie,

called White Owl.

I wanted to do an art piece to honor our little zip code.

I had heard that the snowy owls were in South Dakota this year.

I had even prayed privately,

LORD, I just am going to dare to ask you for a photo of snowy owl.

You know it is a heart's desire,

and I will know it is from You.

The next morning, our friend and neighbor, Glen,

who had listened to my bird-story the night before,

called on his cell phone and said there was a white owl

along the highway.

It was about five miles away.

I prayed all the way there that I would get to see it

and that just maybe I could get a photo that I could use for an art piece.

I passed the place where he said it would be.

It's probably gone, I was thinking, but I kept driving, hopeful.

Then on top of an old tire hanging on a fencepost, I see bright white.

I hold my breath, slow down my driving, get my camera ready,

and start to take pictures, hands shaking, saying,

Thank you Jesus.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

My radio is on...

Chris Tomlin's song, How Great Is Our God,

is playing . . .

How great is our God, sing with me, how great is our God

and all will see how

great

is our God . . .

It's cold and windy.

I get close. 

He flies off, but stops about a half mile away.

For two hours, we do this.

He flies off.  I get close.

He watches me.

I get close, he flies again.

At last, he flies into the sunshine.

And I return home

Exhilirated.

I think I've taken about 100 photos.

I plug in my camera . . .

almost 300 times, I had clicked the shutter.

Psalm 139:1

O LORD, you have searched me and known me.

He knows me.

Knows my heart.

Knows what will delight my heart.

Whenever I start to wonder or question 

what my role is

in sharing about Jesus,

He says to my heart,

 just tell your stories.

In John 4, Jesus meets a Samaritan woman at a well.

At the end of their conversation, she goes to tell the people

in the village, that

He knows me.  I think this is the Messiah...

It meant something to her, that He knew her.

Everything about her.

She dropped everything, including concern about her reputation,

and told everyone about it.

And the people listened.

They invited Him to stay with them.

At first, many believed because of what she said.

But then this is what happened . . .

John 4:42

Then they said to the woman,

"We no longer believe just because of what you said,

but now we have heard Him for ourselves,

and now we know that this man really is

the

Savior

of

the

world."

So that is what I do.

Tell my stories.

Of how I know that He knows me.

And how I know that He is the One.

So that maybe, some will listen for Him,

and then hear Him for themselves and know.

That is my hope,

that each one, as many as possible,

will hear him for themselves and know Him.

Believe Him.

Love Him.

With all their heart.

And receive all He has to freely give.

Life.

Abundant.

Vivid.

Real.

Now.

And forever.

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