Bless the Lord, all birds of the air; sing praise to him and highly exalt him forever!

Daniel 3:80

This praise was sung to God in the midst of flames. He saved the lives of those who trusted him, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. King Nebuchadnezzar tried to murder them for their faithfulness to God. He had them cast into a furnace. They chose to give themselves up to death rather than turn from God, their only true goodness.

He miraculously saved them for their trust, and praise of His goodness burst from them in song.

The test I am undergoing is much less. I am being tried in a smaller furnace. Yet the gold of my praise is not always forthcoming. For that reason, I am grateful to the birds.

I am grateful when they wake me up in the morning. I haven’t always been. But their voices raised up, doing exactly what God has created them to do, is a reminder that not all is lost. Some of His creatures do His will. I truly believe that they fill some of the void where our praise belongs.

And then there are the plants, each of which has at least three colors of green; the sky, which is the brightest blue every day; the sun, shining into the world, the cause of color; the dew in the grass that sparkles small, star-like rainbows.

All these creatures are entering spring. Offering thanks for them can help to warm our hearts, still stuck in winter.

At times when I am too pained to praise, I listen to the birds. I try to let their voices soften my heart. I offer them to God.