My wife and I were invited to a long-time friend’s home. I, however, did not know this friend’s husband very well. I was a bit anxious about getting to know him as I’m not the greatest at small talk. I was expecting to work on a house project with him or chop wood or something, whatever men do. The ladies were going to do some sort of Mary Kay thing, so I was trapped. I was nervous.
But It turned out to be wonderful.
He’s such a gentle man. Always smiling, eager to laugh, enthusiastic about the small things, loving. His family has no t.v. in the living room. Instead, he has set up an open window with a hummingbird feeder hanging in front of it.
I was, and still am, fascinated at this unconventional living area setup.
I’m not a hummingbird enthusiast per se, but gosh are they fun to watch. Within five minutes we saw two hummingbirds fighting over the feeder. And for the next two hours, we sat, watched hummingbirds, and talked about where worship comes from.
My new friend told me of how he worships through being isolated, where his thoughts are uninhibited. He told me that he sees God in creation, in music, and most of all – you guessed it – hummingbirds.
He said these birds have always been around him when he’s been praying, during difficult times in his life, or when he’s simply taking in the glory around him. He told me that he knows that God is always around and that he knows that these creatures are just birds, but, he said, they bring about a sense of wonder and reverence.
And that’s what stuck with me. This is truth. Worship is reverence. It’s humility. It’s allowing circumstances, or creation, or truth to overtake us and point us to a powerful and wonderful God. Yes. This is worship.
So we sat, watching hummingbirds, until our time together drew to a close. We shook hands, said our goodbye’s and laughed at the housewarming gift we happened to give them: A pound of Starbucks coffee with a picture of what else on it? A hummingbird.