Tiny Hole, Magnificent God


Just a hole in the wall, Black in a sea of shamrock green

      Through the salon’s window where I watched traffic roll by, the hole in the wall across the driveway appeared to be nothing more than a blemish in the concrete. A ragged break, no bigger than a golf ball, had cracked open in the cement blocks that formed one side of the building. To any passerby, the hole would appear non-descript—black in a sea of shamrock green.   

      But as I sat there listening to the scissors snip beside my ear, the hole suddenly sprouted, a flurry of color that blurred in its haste to exit.

      “What was that?” I pointed toward the spot.

      “Swallows.” My stylist continued clipping. “They nest there every year.”

      Now my attention riveted to the opening. Sure enough, within a few minutes the little bird returned. She swooped in at breakneck speed, aimed at the wall, and just before she smashed herself against the cement, her wings lowered and she glided through the hole with computerized precision. One slight miscalculation and she would end her life against an unforgiving building. Pilots could learn a thing or two from this bird.

      Investigative by nature, I had to inspect the hole. I asked the owner if I could take a picture of it. When the camera flashed, I heard the chicks peep inside the opening.

       The owner explained she had walled up the interior when she painted, forming a small, insulated space between the inside and the outer wall.  Since then the swallows had nested every year, hatching their young in the sanctuary of the hole.

      The Bible tells us in Psalm 139 we are fearfully and wonderfully made. Anyone who has studied medicine knows how complex our human bodies are. Watching the swallow maneuver with such precision renews my faith in an all-powerful God who watches over the needs of every creature, right down to the flight pattern of a tiny mother bird. To think He cares about us even more is beyond my ability to comprehend.

In Psalm 84, the psalmist writes:

How lovely is your tabernacle, O Lord of hosts!

My soul longs, yes, even faints for the courts of the Lord;

My heart and my flesh cry out for the Living God.

Even the sparrow has found a home,

And the swallow a nest for herself, Where she may lay her young—

Even your altars, O Lord of hosts,

My King and my God

Blessed are they who dwell in Your house,

They will still be praising You.


Can you hear them peeping?

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