Playdates with God: Feed

This morning, the moon watches with its round face as I fill up the bird feeders. They’ve waned empty for weeks, neglected during Lucy Mae’s illness. The cardinals have given up on me, moved on to better-tended places. I miss their happy splash of red.
I told Megan that we haven’t felt like walking. The boys don’t want to see those familiar places while they hold empty hands. Our evenings have shifted into something else and it’s been all out of balance.
But this morning, the moonlight fell through the glass and I remembered how much of living is about rhythm—about the habits we keep every day. I think about this as I scoop out sunflower seeds—how a habit can become a mindless kind of doing, a mindless kind of living.
Until it’s taken away from us.
Perhaps we are doomed to this constant cycle—this state of remembering and forgetting that we spiral through. Is that what it means to be human? Chesterton said, “whatever else is true of man, man is not what he was meant to be”.
If I can reclaim this moment for what I was meant to be, will the balance of the world shift? Just a little?
I cannot, by force of will, return to the Garden. But I can close my eyes, breathe in morning dew, tune my ear to birdsong.
I can fill the bird feeders. 

Over at The High Calling, we’re continuing our discussion of Todd Henry’s book Die Empty: Unleash Your Best Work Every Day. Join us? If you missed our live discussion with Todd Henry last week,
you can check it out here.

How do you embrace the God-joy? Every Monday I’ll be sharing one of my Playdates with God. I would love to hear about yours. It can be anything: outside, quiet time. Maybe it’s solitary. Maybe it’s loud and crowded. Just find Him. Be with Him. Grab my button at the bottom of the page and join us:

The Playdates button:


  1. JosephPote says

    Oh, Laura! I loved this post. I feel you, my friend…feel the sorrow, the brokeness, the emptiness…the hope, the longing, the deep joy…
    I, too, have spent much time, lately, contemplating how we were meant…and longing for that day when we are truly, fully, who we each were created to be.
    Blessings to you!

  2. Elizabeth says

    Laura, this is a favorite. You feed my empty places with your soulful — soulfilled words. Every morsel a nourishing gift. Thank you.

  3. says

    Sometimes it is a difficult task to put one foot in front of the other and “fill that bird feeder,” Laura. Praying for you in this loss and hoping the simple daily rituals–connecting ever closer to God–brings comfort and hope to your heart.

  4. Brianna Wasson says

    I’ve always been intrigued at the thought of God’s mercies being new every morning and the very next phrase talks about His faithfulness. How faithfulness and new go hand in hand with God. It seems like this rhythm you write about here is a picture of that somehow. I’m so glad to know you’re finding life even in the sad of losing Lucie Mae, Laura. Blessings today, my friend.

  5. says

    Thank you, Laura, for this message. Balance is never easy and seems harder to find these days. BUT…it is so very necessary to find. The simple act of filling the bird feeders and seeing the full moon and knowing that God is where our balance truly is…we can have balance. May your day be a blessing.

  6. JViola79 says

    It is so true that we do not realize what a blessing or joy we derive from our routines or habits. It is their absence that our eyes are open to the depth of meaning those habits brought into our lives. It is in getting back to those small acts, like filling the bird feeder, that we begin to move forward, just a step at a time & again feel life. Beautiful post!

  7. says

    Oh, Laura, it’s so hard when life changes, isn’t it? Praying for you today, my sister. Your choice to fill the bird feeders encourages me to do the same. Let’s listen for the singing today under the moonlight. Hugs

  8. DeanneMoore says

    I wasn’t going to link up because my post doesn’t have “playdate” feel but then I read your words… I so out of routine and nobody’s getting fed—not even the birds! I never realized how much rhythm I had until life changed for me a few weeks ago—actually while you and other bloggers were at Allume. Someday, I find it again but not anytime soon.

  9. Diane | AnExtraordinaryDay says

    My heart hurts with yours Laura. That emptiness….it remains for such a long time. Everyone handles it differently. A friend got another black lab two weeks to the day after saying goodbye to her Shadow. I’m certain we will never know balance here. I guess it just gives us more opportunity to lean harder on the ONE who wants to carry us when we prefer to to lean. [hugs]

  10. OutnumberedMom says

    I do love me some Chesterton. GK always makes me think, comforts me. Thinking of you as you remember Lucy Mae…and I remember my little black friend-pup, too.

  11. Sharon says

    This is really lovely, Laura. Sometimes God provides wonderful comfort in the smallest things.

    Praying for all of you as you continue to deal with the loss of Lucy Mae – remember that God is close to the brokenhearted.


  12. bluecottonmemory says

    Laura – Cardinals are my very favorite bird – since I was a little girl and I didn’t realize it was the cardinal singing outside my bedroom window in my grandmother’s house. They’ve always symbolized God’s presence – that I am where I am supposed to be, heralding home. I hope your cardinals come home soon. I understand about routine getting out of rhythm – and change changes that rhythm – gives us a new one or a transition to a new one. I love your playdates with God – how He always reveals to you! Thank you for always sharing so encouragingly!

  13. says

    Linking very, very late–sorry! I read this the other day, and it felt almost liturgical. Yes, it is so easy to lose the rhythm when we’ve suffered great loss. And, so often, we find it again by beginning simply–by filling a bird feeder.

    You make me smile, dear friend, even though I know your heart is broken.

  14. says

    I really think rhythm is a spiritual discipline that needs to be explored more. been thinking about its impact and when I don’t foster it, the emptiness and dryness I experience. Fill those bird feeders. lovely thought

  15. says

    Rhythm can be mindless, but it can be such comfort too. Morning and evening, seedtime and harvest, the progression of days and generations,. . . these are part of God’s design, part of what His world was meant to be even before the fall. It’s death, not rhythm, that’s the enemy, and it puts us out of step with our lives until we’re all thumbs and left feet and don’t know what to do with ourselves. My rhythm is off lately too, because of travel to be with A’s family, a happy-sad disruption but not like yours. A return to routine these next few days will be welcome.

    My heart still goes out to you, friend. Breathe. God will establish your rhythms again, but they won’t ever be the same, will they? Grace and peace to you, Laura, in Christ.

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