Here’s a Skype conversation I just had with my beloved co-worker, who is a bird enthusiast:
So here’s a red house finch from Google images:
And here’s “my” red house finch:
Ain’t life (and death…) amazing?!
I know, I know – it’s just a random bird who happened to hang around incessantly outside my office window and initiate a few stare-downs with me on the day Toby died.
No, I don’t think the finch’s presence is the “voice of God” or anything like that, because, well, I don’t happen to believe in a personal god with a voice directly to me. I just don’t.
But I do believe that Nature is an amazing and powerful force and I do believe (prompted by observing the process of my mother’s death) that there are dimensions that we can’t even begin to understand and that death is probably the biggest mystery we face.
I guess perhaps dogwood flowers and bright red finches are as close as I get to believing in God. And I’m perfectly OK with that.