The Song of the Wren 

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  • Last summer a pair of dear little wrens moved into the wren house Lars had hung in a small oak tree. I can see the tree from the desk where I write. It was delightful to see them “case” the place, flying around, then going in and out, conversing with each other as to whether this would be a suitable domicile. After a day or two of consultation they began carrying in a variety of building materials. Then we saw the female no more, but beginning at five o’clock each morning we heard the proud male’s whispering, gurgling sound, rising, then falling at the end. I was astounded at the energy that tiny creature put forth with his “singing,” so I timed it—nine times per minute, 540 times per hour—virtually all day long, with hardly any intermission. 

    I doubt that he told his wife he’d had a long, hard day. I doubt that she complained of boredom as she warmed the tiny eggs she had produced. He worked tirelessly to feed her, and when the fledglings were ready to fly the coop what a chorus of jubilations the grateful parents put forth. “All creatures that on earth do dwell, sing to the Lord with cheerful voice!” 

    They did. Shouldn’t we?

     Almighty God, Who canst give the light that in darkness shall make us glad, the life that in gloom shall make us joy, and the peace that amidst discord shall bring us quietness! Let us live this day in that light, that life, and that peace, so that we may gain the victory over those things that press us down, and over the flesh that so often encumbers us, and over death that seemeth for a moment to win the victory. Thus we, being filled with inward peace, and light, and life, may walk all the days of this our mortal life, doing our work as the business of our Father, glorifying it, because it is Thy will, knowing that what Thou givest Thou givest in love. Bestow upon us the greatest and last blessing, that we, being in Thy presence, may be like unto Thee for evermore. These things we do ask, in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord—Amen.

    George Dawson (1821-1876)

    **Excerpt originally appeared in the January/February 1999 Elisabeth Elliot Newsletter.