~ I took this picture of my mother's gloved hand holding a robin's egg - April 26, 2010
At the beginning of this week, my mother came into our kitchen one afternoon holding a sad sight: a robin's egg, broken into pieces, but with a baby robin still inside it, its body developed enough to fill up the whole egg and its beak visible at the crack in the shell. It's not at all uncommon to find broken robin eggshells around here, and usually it's a happy discovery. We can think of the baby robin who outgrew the shell and is now cheerfully flitting around the yard hunting for worms. But to see a shell with the dead baby in it was another matter altogether. I can't remember ever seeing one quite like that; and although it was interesting to see it for scientific reasons, it did pluck at my heartstrings to think of that baby dying before it even got a chance to leave its shell.
Even more, however, the sight reminded me of these comforting verses from Matthew. God knew about the broken shell on the ground; He knew about the robin who didn't even get to fly once; and if He does that, how much more does He know - and care about - the intricate details of my life?!
Out of respect, my mother cradled the broken egg tenderly in her hand. How much more does He cradle us in His powerful but gentle hands?!
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