Now that television is clogged with large men lunging at an oblong ball, I reluctantly cede summer's end. Though I love football, I shall miss summer. Most of all, I will miss Saturday mornings in a wooded field. Seated in a comfortable chair I am alone with my Bible, my Creator and His creation. 

The birds are loud there, with many different sounds.  I often close my eyes and count the number of different calls.

One bird sounds like a Chevy engine that won't quite start—really!
Another's contribution is nothing but a single syllable chirp. 
Others, by comparison, offer highly ornate phrases using many notes on the musical scale.

The best way to enjoy, though, is not to over analyze, but to let the layered harmonies of these winged creatures work their melodies into your soul.  The birds, I'm convinced, have a few lessons in their twitter (pun likely intended).

Lesson One:  Your voice—your solo--is unique.  Your appearance, your personality, your spiritual gifting—they're not just okay, they're great!  So “sing” boldly.   As Oscar Wilde put it, “Be yourself.  Everyone else is already taken.”

Lesson Two: Learn to be silent. 
All birds don't sing all the time.  They take turns, sit out awhile, then chirp when the time is right.  There's a place for letting others solo.  Learn to be silent. 

Lesson Three:  Learn to celebrate the symphony.   You can only sing one part—not an entire score!  As Paul observed, “we have many members in one body and all the members do not have the same function” (Rom. 12:4).It's great to be multi-talented.  But it's wrong to attempt to be the whole show. 

Most people go bird watching.
Me?  I go bird-listening.
That's what I've been hearing lately.

Now if you’ll please excuse me--I have a tweet to send off.