Wisdom from Mother Robin + Nest with Eggs DIY
This article was published in the Spring 2024 edition of Our Story Magazine. It was a story I wrote a while back and think about once in a while when it seems the kids are growing up too fast. I’m glad it found a home, along with Palmer’s beautiful photography, at Our Story which is a lovely publication, full of thoughtful writing and stunning photos. It is available in print and digital versions.
One spring, back when we lived at our old house and had just two kids (I find that moves and pregnancies are the easiest way to mark time), a robin couple built a nest on a ledge outside our upstairs bathroom. With curiosity we watched the busy couple form the nest. We noticed when the nest was suddenly full of eggs and we admired how the mother warmed and cared for her eggs with patience and gentleness. I had never had such a close up view of this process and it was all so precious.
But then the eggs hatched and all heck seemed to break loose. Scraggly, weak little dinosaur-type things flailed about the nest. They stretched their too-long necks in order to lift up their too-big heads. The peeped and cheeped with beaks open wide and eyes closed tight. Proud Mama and Papa took it all in stride and knew exactly what to do. They faithfully kept their babies cared for and fed, and before our eyes the little ones gained strength, grew some fluffy feathers, and soon started to look more like birds and less like Jurassic Park.
Then one day, just 12 days after they hatched, I looked out the window to check on our little friends and they were gone. The nest was empty.
My first thoughts jumped to tragedy and I panicked. Had a raccoon gotten them? Had they fallen? But then the truth hit me. There was no tragedy; they had simply flown away.
But I wasn’t prepared for that reality. It had all happened too fast. 12 days prior they had emerged from their eggs, completely helpless, totally dependent, and now, just like that, they were gone.
As my two toddlers and I stood in the bathroom, gazing in shock at the empty nest, I muttered half to myself, “They are gone. They flew away.”
“And we missed it?” my son slowly asked.
“Yes, we missed it.”
I shifted my gaze to the two little faces that were now looking up at me with sorrowful eyes.
Oh Lord, I don’t want to miss it!
Every Moment Matters
The day the robins left all those years ago, my hands were full of diapers and play dates and potty training. More often than not, noise and selfish clamoring seemed to reign supreme in my nest just like it did in Mother Robin’s. But that dear mother gave me a picture of what it looks like to be present and engaged in the midst of squawking chaos. She stayed calm and kept meeting needs. She steadily strengthened her babies as she knew how, preparing them for the coming day when they would stretch their wings and fly. She seemed to know instinctively that the season wouldn’t last long, and, because of its brevity, every moment mattered.
“Teach us to realize the brevity of life, so that we may grow in wisdom” (Psalm 90:12 NLT).
It can be tempting to wish away hard seasons or challenging days, but if we do so we will find that life has slipped us by. However, if we learn to see our lives—including the hard seasons and challenging days—as brief but important parts of God’s bigger story, we will find the strength and wisdom we need to tackle challenges, embrace opportunities, and wonder at the beauty of each season. We will find ourselves empowered to move forward with intention and wisdom, even during the chaotic, squawking, full-nest kind of days. It is what will help us reach the end of the season, look back, and say, I’m so glad we didn’t miss it.
My prayer back then, and my prayer still today, is that when our nest is empty, my husband and I will be able to settle into the openness and freedom of that new season without regrets regarding how we lived the days when our nest was full. Not because I expect that we will have lived it perfectly, but because my hope is that we will have been engaged and present, remembering that every moment matters, just like dear Mother Robin.
Project: Clay Egg Filled Nest
This simple clay project is easy to do, lovely to behold, and can serve as either a reminder to cherish the days when littles are in your nest or a reminder to look back on those days with fondness. When we did this project, I had each of my children make an egg. Even with such a simple, straightforward project, I can see their personal style evident in their work. Each egg holds a unique charm.
Supplies:
polymer clay, color of your choice
tin foil
brown acrylic paint, optional
toothbrush, optional
a small nest purchased from a craft store
Instructions:
1. Mold a small piece of tin foil into an egg shape.
2. Roll out a small piece of clay.
3. Mold the clay around the tin foil egg, cut off any excess and smooth with fingertips until you are satisfied with the egg shape.
4. Follow manufacturer’s directions for drying/baking clay.
5. If you desire your egg to be speckled (like a cardinal egg), load the bristles of a toothbrush with brown paint and get speckles to fly by running your finger over the bristles. Practice onto a sheet of scrap paper first. If the paint is too thin you can add a touch of water but if it becomes too watery the paint will smear on the egg instead of speckling the egg.
6. Place the completed eggs in a nest and display to the delight of all.
