❝Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?❞
Reflection by Lisa Gibbs
“The Branch Will Not Break” by James Wright
In a pine tree,
A few yards from my window sill,
A brilliant blue jay is springing up and down, up and down
On a branch.
I laugh, as I see him abandon himself
To entire delight, for he knows as well as I do
That the branch will not break.
When I was 19, and a student at UGA, I took a class in American poetry. The “text book” was a stack of slim paper backs, the work of half a dozen roughly contemporary poets. This poem was in one of those books. It went straight to my heart and remains.
We all know that some portion of life is about “getting by” or “getting around” or, if one must, “getting through.” It’s about gritting teeth, setting your face toward the end, staying afloat, marching on. Courage, strength, persistence, perseverance, all those things, are fine things. But just a little grim. Especially so in these shorter, colder days, with their lists, annotated calendars, and the obligations of these holy days.
This month, in the midst of gathering and spending, planning, prioritizing and bundling up, I want what that blue jay has: the exultant joy of a sure, steady, and reliable faith.