An ode to my songbirds

It’s the sitting in the darkness that makes the light easier to see. It’s not being able to see anything that makes seeing everything so transformative. — Mike Glenn

I drove away from my last baby bird on Mother’s Day. Kind of poetic. Before actually having children, I think I had idyllic visions of happy but tearful goodbyes to college freshmen, and intrepid farewells to courageous spirits off to backpack across Europe.

👀 Clearly, movies and books shaped my youthful expectations of reality. Here in the real world, each nest launch looks different, and none of mine matched what I pictured. I would not have chosen many of the encounters that have shaped my songbirds. But that hasn’t stopped them from growing into extraordinary humans.

Bird #1

The first bird left in increments; initially just down the street, then back to her hometown 600 miles away, then clear across the country. Eventually her journey brought her back to Virginia for almost a year before settling once more in Kentucky.

Louisville, Kentucky | June 2021

Birdie #2

The second birdie made noises of flying for several months. Right when she thought she would stay put a while longer, a new pathway opened and she was off to adventure in a flash. She moved three times and got married in under a year!

Forest, Virginia | August 2023

Two weeks after birdie #2 left, bird #1 moved back to her hometown again. I commemorated the flights with nail art because sometimes words fail, you know?

Sparrow #3

My last songbird has been flying solo in the house since the summer of ‘23, and now it’s his turn to discover new territory and share his light past the borders of home.

Fort Leavenworth, Kansas | April 2025

The relinquishing

An early draft of my songbirds’ lives would’ve read like a children’s storybook: And they all lived happily ever after. When I get around to writing our story, I may still use that tagline, but our tale lost its utopian simplicity long ago.

Whether willingly or a prying of the hands, it’s interesting how a parent’s grip loosens as children grow. When they’re infants, we make well-meaning promises like, I won’t let anything happen you. It’s an odd thing to say when you think about it. The intent is a righteous desire to protect them from all harm. But just as we have faced hard times, we must know that a lot is going to happen to them and most of the happenings will be out of our control, out of sight. Sometimes we will be the harmful thing, like when harsh words are spoken out of fear (that thing beneath the anger).

Oddly enough, I spent a lot of time guarding my songbirds from feeling pain — from having to experience the hurt of being wounded, the sting of being taken advantage of, and the misery of betrayal. It is a grievous thing to watch someone you love figure out how to keep going after experiencing tremendous loss.

Grief is the price of love. Loving someone means that one day, there will be grieving. They will leave you, or you will leave them. The more you love, the more you grieve. Loving someone also means grieving with them. It means letting their pain and loss bleed into your own heart. When you see that pain coming, you may want to throw up the guardrails, sound the alarm, raise the flag, but you must keep the borders of your heart porous in order to love well. Grieving is an act of surrender.

― Valarie Kaur, See No Stranger: A Memoir and Manifesto of Revolutionary Love

My songbirds have all fallen prey to imposters, bullies, and abusers. Each of them have known a level of loneliness and loss that some people will never experience, and more than one has been a victim of violence. I had to (begrudgingly) accept my lack of control and sought to understand the One who keeps it. I grappled with divine justice, God’s sovereignty, and I grieved the gentler life I dreamt for my children.

Somewhere in the process, I realized Jesus was with me in my grief, sitting quietly in solidarity, crying with me, angry about evil with me. God weeps for all His children, and mine belong to Him. One uniquely tormented night, the words from a book I love resonated with my soul:

Therefore I begin to think, my Lord, You purposely allow us to be brought into contact with the bad and evil things that You want changed. Perhaps that is the very reason that we are here in this world, where sin and sorrow and suffering and evil abound, so that we may let You teach us how to react to them…not simply binding [evil] so that it cannot work harm, but whenever possible overcoming it with good.

Hannah Hurnard, Hinds Feet on High Places

I pray that as I learn to feel through the pain, my songbirds will take these lessons to heart. Though feeling deeply is rarely comfortable in the moment (nor is it pretty, but ugly crying, snot bubbles, and solitary screaming have their place; don’t let anyone tell you otherwise), it is the unfeeling that wrecks us. Hurt can be ignored your whole life, but it will blind you to beauty and grace, and it will cost you more dearly than you can imagine. With our embodied souls, we might be able to bridle thoughts and stifle emotions, but our bodies hold a record. If we don’t contend with our thoughts and emotions, our bodies will eventually feel all the suffering and shame we attempt to silence.

Dear songbirds,

One thing I wish I’d known when I took my flight from home is: It is okay and normal to make mistakes. Even more, mistakes are a necessary part of life’s journey.

You are young, yet the storms of life have already shaped you into phenomenal individuals. You are not just survivors, you are warriors triumphing over evil with the goodness formed in you by the fires of affliction. When you’ve experienced as much darkness in this world as you have, making mistakes can feel scary or off limits. It’s understandable to shy away from anything that might bring you more pain or discomfort. But I urge you to embrace the moments that humble you. To be okay with messing up means you have to learn your worth. You are each a miracle; precious, valuable, truly extraordinary. Choose to believe how wonderful you are, then continue living in that truth.

The God who created you calls you to follow Him. Don’t pursue perfection or religion or an idea or a brand — follow Jesus. Part of following Him means embracing your missteps. Repeat with me: I am not God. Bob Ross told us mistakes are just happy accidents, right? God works that way, taking all the things — great and terrible — to produce good. Own the mistakes in your power, accept the ones that aren’t, and especially right now in your life remember the legendary words of Anna Kendrick’s Twilight character:

This isn’t the time to make hard and fast decisions, it’s time to make mistakes. Take the wrong train and get stuck somewhere. Fall in love – a lot. Major in philosophy ’cause there’s no way to make a career out of that. Change your mind. Then change it again, because nothing’s permanent.

Certainly, there are permanent things, but those pale in comparison to the impermanence of most decisions. Yes, you have responsibility; but believe me, it’s not all up to you. God takes charge in leading you on the right path (Psalm 23:3). He will teach you and guide you in the way you should go (Psalm 32:8). And when (not if) you miss the cue or blatantly ignore it, He waits for you, longing to show you mercy and compassion (Isaiah 30:18). These aren’t just words from an ancient book, my loves; I have experienced the faithfulness of God and testify to you: Following Jesus is the way to the fullest life.

I want you to live life fully. I want you to experience joy and hope and peace as I have and still do. When making choices, I find the best posture is one with open hands. Pray for direction, seek truth, and move confidently with the One who made you. Do this — imperfectly to the best of your ability, which changes daily — and you will be the ones testifying, “Come and hear, all you who fear God, and I will tell what He has done for my soul” (Psalm 66:16 ESV).

Work it

I came across these tools in a Bible app devotional.¹ I hope you find them helpful when you need to process beyond that scream sesh you had in your car. ♥︎

Reflective questions:

1. What area of your life do you feel your value is entangled in performance?

2. What is your biggest fear about failing?

3. What do you hide about yourself out of fear of it being used against you?

4. How differently would you live if you had no fear of failure?

5. What is your biggest fear when it comes to surrender?

Reflective exercises:

• Consider how you can turn a grumble into gratitude.²

• List five things you’re grateful for regarding your health.

• List five things you’re grateful for regarding people in your life.

• List five things you’re grateful for regarding what Jesus has done in your life.

• Read through Psalm 66.

Home is where we make it

We may not live under the same roof anymore, but I will always be a home to you, and you can call me anytime. If I don’t answer (or can’t buy you an expensive item) it’s not because I don’t love you. IYKYK.

I adore you three. I miss your presence in my daily life. I am proud of you. I'm grateful for the years we had together in our home, and even more thankful for the relationships we have now. I’m so excited to see your lives unfold and bear fruit. I am for you, always. Keep singing and making music.

And finally, “whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable—if there is any moral excellence and if there is anything praiseworthy—dwell on these things. Do what you have learned and received and heard from me, and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you” (Philippians 4:8-9 CSB).

Be well, my precious songbirds.³ I’ll be seeing you soon.

Love,

mommy, momma, mom/bruh

1. By Madz Deyzel, https://www.bible.com/reading-plans/48298-mindsets-that-hurt-v-heal.

2. Did you know complaining triggers cortisol and raises stress?! Even listening to someone complaining for long periods of time will trigger the stress hormone in our bodies. See this short article for how complaining rewires your brain.

3. Songbirds: because they’re a musical bunch, some play instruments quite well, and all have incredible singing voices.