The Northern Mockingbird that nests in the twisted branches of our honeysuckle vine thinks he's the boss of our backyard - and most of the time, he is.
He clearly rules the realm of performances. An accomplished mimic, the mockingbird perches atop the trees and fence posts and can trill, rasp, warble, whistle and even croak like a frog in long repeated phrases. He's a one-bird-band - a whole bevy of songbirds dressed in a single frame of unassuming gray feathers.
But the mockingbird is only boss until the red-bellied woodpeckers fly in with their shrill call and striking plumage, forcing the mockingbird to retreat into his vine-covered abode.
I'm sometimes like that mockingbird. Ordinary as I am, I can be full of confidence, "singing" away joyfully in the way I was created, and then woodpeckers of doubt fly in to peck away, calling "who do you think you are - miss wanna-be-psalmist-with-a-camera?"
But in my vine-covered abode, the lifter of my head reminds me that He alone knows the works for which He has created me that I might walk in them - boasting in His grace.
and his children will have a refuge.
Proverbs 14:26 ESV
