Front Cover of Jan's Book

Taken from The Treasure of His Company 2005

Author:  Mrs. Jan Howlett 

Publisher's Imprint:  Essence Publishers

 

 

Little Willy gladly curled up in a cozy ball on my lap, purring away contentedly. It had been a long, cold winter, but now we were both basking in the sunshine.

As earlier storm clouds drifted away, the air was warming up; yet the atmosphere was still fresh and fragrant, and that sweetness drew out many beautiful songbirds, chirping and singing their hymns of praise to our Heavenly Father.

The gardens were filling with the lovely colours of crocus and tulips. The scent of lilac trees wafted by as the promise of new buds were forming on our Wygaleigh bush. As I relaxed, the effects of the strengthening moments of quiet with the Lord, and with Willy, washed over me. I breathed in the fresh air and raised my face upwards to the warmth of the sun’s rays.

As I did so, I couldn’t help notice that the heavens were unusually busy with all sorts of birds, large and small, zipping back and forth between the houses and the open backyards—some with definite purposes, while others were just playful, social skirmishes. Mrs. Robin was scolding one of her brood, and a small dog barked in the very far distance.

Indeed, it was fascinating to watch the birds dart in and out, flying freely from tree to tree, without once crashing into each other or into the buildings. They were wonderfully skilled, and their sense of distance was so precise that they never seemed to give it a second thought, but to my eyes it was God’s amazing creation at work.

These little moments shared over a morning cup of tea on the back step were like mini vacations for me, and I was very grateful for these tranquil moments. But all of a sudden, that peacefulness was rudely interrupted by a loud bang, like a gun going off. The sound seemed to come from a distant building site. It startled both Willy and me.

Instantly I was reminded of the televised 2003 Iraq war, with the sound of bombs dropping out of war planes, exploding on their intended targets. Those sounds were fresh in my mind only because a few days earlier our quiet morning was suddenly shattered by the unnerving roar of a fighter jet screaming through our air space, literally just above our heads! Sighting a military jet is a very rare occurrence, in spite of the fact that Camp Borden is not far from where we live.

Consequently, in light of the age of terror alerts, concern and a chilling sense of danger instantly and boldly intruded on my peace of mind. Wondering why our solitude was being infringed upon, everyone raced to the window to see what was happening. I use the word infringe to describe this scene because the associated sound of that jet spoke of the need for protection, the warding off of evil intention and a need to restore peace.

Yet, as I sat on the step with Willy sleeping blissfully on my lap, the picture of birds busy at living life and playing with carefree abandon brought forth a flood of praise, because they were just birds and not fighter jets on a mission to kill and destroy invading enemies.

I shot up a prayer of thankfulness that the sounds in my ears were that of these musical songbirds and not, in fact, the roar of war planes warning of impending danger. How glad to know the quiet fluttering of their little wings were not plumes of smoke and that the loud bang I had heard earlier was not a massive bomb detonating.

Yes, I was grateful for the peacefulness of my morning with my dear little Willy. Even more than this momentary respite, I was all the more thankful for the indescribable gift of knowing God’s Eternal peace in my heart because years earlier I had come to know His Son, the Prince of Peace, Jesus Christ, as my own personal Lord and Saviour.

This morning was an extra-special time for me with the Lord and His creation. He had used many beautiful songbirds to remind me of the peace and safety I have in Him, as I trust in His all-sufficient care and Salvation.

Yes, the roar of jets and the sense of danger may cause concern and real distress, but nothing can separate me from my Saviour, or the Peace that He is or the Peace that He alone provides (Romans 8: 38-39).

I said my goodbyes to little Willy and went back to face the day’s work with a deep joy in my heart, knowing that no matter what I might face from day to day, my Saviour is my great Protector.

Now, every time I hear God’s songbirds, I also remember my true treasure of Peace is Jesus.