The Cry of the Mourning Dove
On summer mornings, my favorite place to be is in a patio chair on our back porch. Coffee in hand, prayer journal splayed open across my lap, my heart readied to spend time with the Lord – this routine is the bedrock of my day.
It’s warm outside but not yet miserably hot. That will come in a few hours. The sky is usually bright blue with a wisp of white clouds lazily floating by. And of course, the constant flurry of activity around our two birdfeeders keeps me entertained (and maybe a little distracted).
The tiny house finches keep up a joyful chatter as they flit from tree to fence to ground to feeder – then start all over again. The doves are a slow, steady presence, waddling along the ground in search of seeds among the mulch. The baby woodpecker taps his beak on the fence, then a branch, and he’s on his way. The shrill shrieks of the red-winged blackbirds are heard before they make their approach and land just about wherever they want to. Rude and bossy, they eventually join in the scavenging party below the feeders. My skittish redbird friends stop by but rarely stay for long. The distant chirp of one to another – and off they fly to rendezvous among the shrubs that line the nearby creek.
About a month into this summer, I picked up on a sound I hadn’t paid attention to before. Among the cacophony and busyness in our backyard was the low, sad, unrelenting song of a lone mourning dove sitting on the corner of a neighbor’s roof. I had been so engrossed in the clanging of the feeder as the birds landed, fed, and took off, the chirps, the shrieks, and the lively fluttering of wings, that I’d missed the dove’s sorrowful dirge.
My heart breaks when I think of the “mourning doves” I’ve missed along the path God has for me. Was I too distracted by a too-full schedule? Did I have too much mental noise going on in my head? Was I too focused on my needs, my feelings, my frivolous desires to notice the pain of those around me?
So many of those “mourning doves” in our lives suffer quietly, not wanting to be a bother, feeling too weak and weary to even raise a hand, seeing themselves as unworthy of help and love.
But God doesn’t overlook those precious ones. He sees them in their affliction and knows the anguish of their souls. (Psalm 31:7) He’s close to the brokenhearted. (Psalm 34:18) He’s the God Who is with them, ready to strengthen and help them. (Isaiah 41:10) He consoles the anxious. (Psalm 94:19) He offers help to the troubled. (Psalm 46:1) And while they may feel unlovable, unwanted, and neglected, God says otherwise in Psalm 139:13-14. He Himself created each one of them – wonderfully and miraculously and beautifully. They matter to God – so much so that when they weep, He keeps track of every single tear. (Psalm 56:8)
One of God’s primary tools for caring for the mourning doves of this world is through His people. He gives direct instructions to us so that the overlooked are finally seen and loved as He intends for them to be.
It starts with taking the focus off ourselves and looking to the needs of others. (Philippians 2:4) We’re to come alongside the hurting and walk with them. Galatians 6:2 tells us to “carry each other’s burdens.” We’ve been blessed to be a blessing so generosity with our time, talents, and resources should be our calling card. (Proverbs 22:9) Tangible expressions of love and concern should be our go-to. (2 Timothy 4:13) But our hearts should also mourn with those who mourn (Romans 12:15) as we continually offer our prayers to the God Who heals their wounds and binds up their broken hearts. (Psalm 147:3)
Let’s be the people who hear the cry of the mourning dove and spring into action with hearts full of compassion and the Father’s love.
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Father, I confess that many a mourning dove has escaped my notice, most often because of my own self-absorption. Will You please make me more aware of the pain and suffering of those around me and equip me to meet their needs in Jesus’ Name? Will You give me His eyes to see, His heart to care deeply, and His hands and feet to take concrete steps of ministry? Thank You for caring for the most vulnerable and sorrowful. Thank You for the privilege of serving and loving the mourning doves among us. In Jesus’ beautiful Name, amen.
