Four Calling Birds

FOUR CALLING BIRDS

Voices that Call You Back to Life

 “Deep calls unto deep…” — Psalm 42:7

      By now I'm sure that some of you are wondering what kind of Christmas list the writer is coming up with.  Imagine sitting on Santa's lap and a little child saying "I want four calling birds."  I remember joking in the past that the person giving him gifts doesn't seem to be much of a true love if they keep giving away birds, unless of course they are a bird lover.  It’s an unusual gift, unless you’ve ever gone through grief—because grief makes even the most familiar world feel silent.  The silence after loss is louder then any earthly scream.  The Christmas season is especially silent for the person grieving.  The reason why is because Christmas is a loud season full of songs, bell ringers, greeting friends, parties, hearing sermons, watching old Christmas movies, etc.  But what was once filled with noise now feels muted.  Laughter that once brought warmth now feels hollow.  Voices that once comforted now echo with absence.  The four calling birds remind us of something essential: God is still calling to you, even in seasons where you feel silenced by pain.

      Grief can literally steal your voice.  Grief can make you withdraw—not because you don’t care, but because everything feels too heavy.  You may find yourself:

• avoiding calls or texts
• hiding your hurt so others won’t worry
• feeling guilty for burdening people
• not knowing how to talk about what hurts
• losing the desire to express anything at all

      This isn’t weakness.  It’s the natural impact of deep loss.  But silence, if left alone too long, becomes a prison.  I know I personally experienced this in January of 2025.  A new year had dawned and I realized that I wouldn't have Tiffanie in one single day during that year.  The thought was overwhelming.  It made me weak in the knees.  It drove me into a dark, deep depression.  That single thought stole my words and caused me to recoil.  But God sent voices—gentle ones—to call me back toward life.

      The first calling bird that came to me was the voice of God through Scripture.  I've been a devout student of the Word for over twenty years.  I love digging deep into Scripture.  I have preached thousands of messages along with leading countless Bible studies.  I love the Word.  The presence of God's Word in my life is a non-negotiable.  But there is a huge difference between reading the Scripture and applying it to your daily life.  Sometimes a verse lands differently when you’re grieving.  A passage you’ve read 100 times suddenly feels personal.  I typically highlight verses in my Bible and when a verse speaks to me I write down the date and why I needed that verse.  I can't tell you how many times I read passages for what seemed to be the first time.  All of the Word of God is true, but I didn't need certain verses in prior seasons, but I do now.  Promises leap off the page when you are grieving.  A Psalm echoes the cry of your heart.  Even if you open Scripture with no energy, no expectation, and no strength—God still speaks.  There are countless times when I read my Bible or do a devotional and God didn’t speak to me or teach me something special, but I keep reading it.  I don't want to lose the habit and I don't want to miss out on an opportunity when God does speak.

      The second calling bird was people.  I am an extrovert by nature, so silence to me is deafening.  God often uses others to call you back to life.  A friend who checks on you via text, messenger, or even a simple card sent in the mail.  A family member who remembers your pain instead of avoiding it.  Someone who knows what it’s like to hurt the way you’re hurting.  Their voice may feel annoying, intrusive, or poorly timed, but beneath it is love.  Their method of trying to comfort you might be wrong, but their motive isn't.  They are trying to speak a foreign language and they genuinely love you.  Sometimes people don’t say the right words, but presence matters more than perfection.  Think of Job.  Job's friends were the most effective when they were quietly sitting with him.  Even imperfect voices can be calling birds that God uses to awaken your spirit.

      My third calling bird was my memories of Tiffanie.  I treasure those memories.  They are gifts that are wrapped under the tree during a season of grief.  I find myself unwrapping them each day.  The memories that used to be almost unbearable bring me such joy.  Not all memories are painful.  Some memories call you toward the joy of having loved deeply.  Memories can hurt sometimes, but they can also be used to heal.  When a memory surfaces during grief, it is not an accident or an intrusion, instead it is an invitation.  An invitation to honor the past rather than erase it.  An invitation to let love keep shaping you.  Your loved one’s voice may be gone, but the echo remains—and sometimes that echo is a calling bird.  Tiff's voice echoes back to me especially during the Christmas season because she adored this time of the year.  Our house would be filled with her voice singing.  Those memories call me back to life.

      The fourth calling bird is the voice of the Holy Spirit that indwells each Christian.  When a person is grieving they are waging a war, a spiritual one in their soul.  If you are unfamiliar with grief then you are unfamiliar with the thoughts that a person thinks.  They question the value of life, 1 in 400 young men commit suicide after losing a spouse.  Grief can put you in the darkest place and make you think the worst of thoughts.  Grief, if you allow it, can be a thief, a black hole that steals all things that are good.  Beneath the exhaustion, beneath the numbness, beneath the ache—God has placed a quiet voice, the voice of the Holy Ghost which tells you that you still matter, that God is going to heal you, that God is ever present and unfailing in His promises.  This voice doesn’t always shout.  It whispers.  It nudges.  It encourages you to take one more breath, one more step, one more day.  It reminds you that you are loved and through Christ you are a child of God.  Even when you feel broken, the Holy Spirit speaks within you:  “You are not finished yet.”

      These calling birds are not demands, instead they are divine invitations from God.  The calling birds don’t force anything, they simply keep singing in hopes that someone will be captivated by their tune.  They don’t scold or pressure or hurry you.  They simply call.  God does the same.  He invites you—not into pretending, not into “moving on,” not into ignoring the pain—but into healing, slowly, gently, at the pace your heart can bear.

Reflection Questions

1. Which “calling voice” do you most need to hear right now—God, people, memory, or the Holy Spirit?
2. Has anyone reached out lately in a way that felt like a small gift from God?
3. What might God be calling you toward this Christmas season?

Prayer

Lord, thank You for the gentle ways You call me back toward life. Help me recognize Your voice—whether through Scripture, people, memories, or the quiet whisper inside my own heart. Give me the courage to listen, the strength to respond, and the comfort of knowing I am never called alone. Amen.