Choosing To Chirp

A simple method for learning to trust God for daily care.

Hey Friends!

Before you jump into this week’s article, I just wanted to make sure that you were aware that The Lighthouse is a podcast too. Each week I record and post this same article, because I know some people prefer to listen rather than read. If that’s you, subscribe to The Lighthouse Podcast wherever you listen. For sake of ease, you can find links to subscribe on Spotify and Apple Podcasts below. I hope it’s helpful!

- Ryan

Most mornings, you can find me sitting on my deck.

With coffee in hand, the solitude of my backyard serves as a sacred space to sit with God each morning. To be honest, it’s pretty magical. Behind my house sit the gorgeous Wasatch Mountains, over which we watch the sunrise each day. To the south is my neighbor's house. My deck overlooks part of their yard, and it’s gorgeous—like a secret garden. They are meticulous about their landscaping, and I’m thankful for it. Their yard is filled with beautiful flower beds. They have an ivy-covered canopy over their porch, inviting hummingbirds to dart in and out all day. Their fence is surrounded by a wealth of different types of trees.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my own backyard. But it’s simple by comparison. We have one weird tree that looks like it was stripped from the pages of a Dr. Seuss book. So, between the beauty of the mountains, my neighbor’s magical garden, the solitude of my deck, and the one weird tree, it’s a serene space to start the day.

One morning last week, I was back on the deck as usual. I’d woken up that day feeling a bit melancholy. I was fresh off a vacation and struggling to get my “regular life” engine restarted. I was feeling a bit insecure and had a dream about a past hurt that caused the pain to resurface. In a previous chapter of life, I probably would have tried to suppress all that by pushing into the day. I would have worked out, had breakfast, and thrown myself into work. But I learned the hard way that this isn’t a sustainable strategy for life. So instead, I sat with God and invited Him to comfort me in the midst of it all.

When I finished praying, I opened my eyes to the sound of baby birds suddenly chirping in one of my neighbor's many trees. I couldn’t see them, but I could certainly hear them. There may have only been three or four, but it sounded like there were about a hundred. Clearly, mom or dad was back with food, and the chicks were desperate for it. As a result, they chirped like their lives depended on it. Every chirp was a plea for care.

As I sat there listening to the cute and chaotic sound, I sensed God saying, “Be a baby bird. I’m here. I hold all you need. Let me care for you.”

The truth is, we’re all designed to be like those baby birds. We’re designed with an inherent need for care. When we’re infants, we’re truly no different from those chicks. We can’t feed ourselves, soothe ourselves, or care for ourselves in any way. And while we obviously develop self-care skills along the way, we never lose the need to have our hearts and minds cared for by God.

• When we hurt…

• When we’re angry…

• When we’re sad…

• When we’re happy…

• When we’re grateful…

• When we’re afraid…

• When we’re confused…

• Every experience invites a need for God’s care.

The problem is, there is often a complex web of reasons why we don’t seek it from Him. Maybe you learned at an early age that your needs were such a burden to others that it was better to keep them to yourself. Maybe you tried but were told that you needed to be tougher or more thick-skinned. Maybe you grew accustomed to no one really asking or caring about what you were carrying. You may be wondering what any of that could have to do with being willing to be cared for by God. See, whether we’re aware of it or not, those early experiences didn’t just inform our relationship with our parents. They informed our experience of relationships with everyone—including God.

So, it’s quite possible that we don’t seek God’s care because we’re unconvinced He cares. We might think our burdens are too big to place on Him. We might not think our burdens are big enough to invite His care. My point is, there are very understandable reasons why you and I might be reluctant to trust God with what we carry each day. This means much of our relationship with God is about learning to trust Him more.

Next week, I have the privilege of interviewing Summer Joy Gross for my Modern Monastics Podcast. She has written a beautiful new book called "The Emmanuel Promise: Discovering the Security of a Life Held by God.” She writes about learning to trust:

“Trust is an embodied experience; it is not an assertion toward information. Trust is developed by thousands of interactions, one after another.”

This is why developing a daily practice of sitting with God experientially is so vital. Not because we earn points with Him for doing so, but because it helps us learn that He is worthy of and a safe place for our trust.

To that end, I want to invite you to experiment with a simple practice we’ll call the Baby Bird Method. It has three simple movements that open us to receive God’s care.

1. Acknowledge your need.

   Take a moment to become still and turn your attention inward. Ask the Holy Spirit to guide you as you consider these questions: What emotions are you experiencing? Where do you feel pain, whether physical or emotional? What anxieties or worries are weighing on your mind? In what areas of your life are you seeking guidance or wisdom? These questions are not just narcissistic navel-gazing; they are vital tools for uncovering the deeper needs within us. By engaging with these inquiries, we begin to better tend to our inner lives.

2. Express that need.

   Psalm 55:22 encourages us with the words, “Cast your burden on the LORD, and he will sustain you…” This invitation is clear and accessible, requiring no theological expertise or scholarly background to understand. God calls us to recognize our needs and to bring them before Him openly. So go ahead—cast your burdens! Pour out your heart! Release everything weighing you down! Whether you speak, cry, or even shout, offer God your raw, unfiltered expression of need. In doing so, you open yourself to His care, finding comfort in the act of genuine surrender.

3. Receive His care.

   This is the step most of us skip. We might acknowledge our needs and even express them to God, but then we simply say, “Amen,” and move on with our days. While expressing our needs to God can bring some comfort, God desires to offer us so much more. Hebrews 4:16 says, “…let us approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in time of need.” God wants us to experience His care! He wants us to hear His voice, feel His comfort, and experience His embrace. Instead of rushing through this sacred moment, take a moment and ask the Spirit how He wants to care for you. Perhaps He has a word of encouragement for you. Maybe He wants to give you a vivid image of His presence with you in that moment. He might want to reveal where He is amid your struggles and needs. If nothing else, rest assured that He longs to care for you by inviting you to sit and become aware of His loving presence. Embrace this invitation, and allow yourself to truly experience the depth of God's compassion and care.

As Summer wisely said, “Trust is developed by thousands of interactions, one after another.” Now, imagine the cumulative effect of applying this simple practice each day. Over time, it will naturally become the way we learn to be with God. We won't need to consciously track each movement; instead, we'll flow through them seamlessly, as it becomes second nature to allow God to care for us throughout the day. Each interaction, each moment of trust, deepens our relationship with God, embedding His presence more profoundly in our daily lives. This continuous, mindful engagement is how we truly learn to live in the fullness of His care and love.

So go ahead and chirp like your life depends on it…because in truth, it actually does.