Oriole Nests, Complaints, Equality and Psalm 32:8

The Oriole, with its bright, and beautiful, orange and black markings, makes a unique and rather grating bird call. It's really more of a complaint than a song; something between gargling with rocks, whistling and growling. Loudly. I don't believe anyone could call it pleasant, but you definitely know when you've been graced by this bird's presence. In fact, a person could probably argue that they are best enjoyed from a quiet distance, even though lovely to look at. (This picture is of a female and is not mine, as you can see.)

Sadly, I know somebody like that. And recently her growling remarks traveled full circle back to me. It did indeed sound rather like gargling with rocks. Grating doesn't really cover it. In general I tend to think of her as a likable person, but she is becoming known for her frequent 'song' of complaint. This time, grumbled to another, but in my direction, a perceived 'preferential treatment', an unfair benefit I had received; a form of inequality, all stuck in her otherwise pleasant enough craw.

Does the Oriole, when building her house, complain that the other birds get the ease of construction in the crotch of the tree, between branches with simple sticks, when she is required to weave a hanging home? Does she accuse her Maker of giving her the left-over colors after Cardinal, Indigo Bunting and even her beloved mate got the prettiest shades? Why does she complain? Doesn't she have all she needs? Wouldn't she rather sing? Or possibly in the manner that He never wastes a thing, the Lord just knows that she needs humbling and the rest of us need more patience.

In Psalm 32:8 the Lord says: "I will instruct you and teach you. I will counsel you with My eye upon you." That's what I want: God's special, specific, unique will for me and for my life. I don't want equality. I don't want my life, my self, my responsibilities, callings, gifts, lessons, family situation, trials, thoughts, emotions, and circumstances to be the same as everyone else's. Does anyone, really? Sure there are situations where flexibility is not an option, but generally I think people claim they want 'equality' most often when they suspect a benefit that they are not receiving and someone else is. I have never heard a person argue for equality when the result would be them giving more and receiving less. In this particular arena I have carried more than my share in previous seasons, but in this season carrying my 'normal' load was not an option. I am thankful for those who understood and accommodated me as I would want to accommodate another facing an unexpected handicap. I expect in the next season I will be able to return to my previous level of participation, but I know of others who for various reasons will not. And yet, what a shame if because 'everyone must be equal' they could not participate in the blessing. Rather than complain, I will be glad that as the needs arise that they can be accommodated, and I hope that I will be more able to carry some of their load when they are less able.

After very little exposure to them, I am convinced that the Creator was wise to suspend the Oriole family, dangling out at the end of a branch, far above the ground, virtually inaccessible, because they are so vocal in their complaints that every predator within a half mile knows exactly where they are. Whatever His reasons for joining such cacophony with such beauty, I am glad that He demonstrates His infinite creativity in the bird kinds. I am equally glad that He calls human kind to a higher level of behavior--grace, humility, and service.

An Oriole nest lay in the front yard today. Thankfully it was empty and incomplete.

The materials chosen would make the local home improvement center proud: primarily individual strips of housewrap, carefully woven with grass, old leaves, and the furry bits of maple seed hulls. But a few poorly tied knots, or slick strings of impervious, woven membrane, allowed the Oriole nest to fall to the lawn, unfinished.

We brought it up near the house to throw away, but when I looked out the window the Oriole had pulled it into the bushes and was trying to tease out the useful pieces. Concerned that this made her easy prey for the cats, I tied her previous effort to the table and put out some oranges to help her find it. Soon she was picking it apart and starting again.

I appreciated her industry and diligence. She didn't give up and fly away. She got right back to work. She didn't start from scratch, but salvaged what she could and pressed on.

I think her knots will be better this time and I only wish I had some long horse tail hair to help her reduce her carbon bird-footprint.