A lesson in patience from the bird world!

The grey birds were unwelcome intruders on our veranda, but because they had made a nest and laid eggs, it was clear they were going to be staying awhile.

The pair of mourning doves created a bit of a mess, and I did not appreciate that. But, worse, I cringed at the thought of the protective adult birds possibly swooping down toward my head, so I felt deprived of enjoying my own outdoor space.

Since their nest was in the direct sightline from my recliner, I could not help but observe their habits. A would-be parent perched on that nest for so many hours. What dedication, I thought.

I had a front-row seat to their doings, and I started detecting a pattern. Incredibly, every day between 5:30 and 6 p.m., the two doves changed places. The replacement bird would show up and perch five feet away. When the one serving nest duty flew off, he (or she) took over. Tag-teaming at its best.

I researched the nesting habits of doves, and an article described exactly what I had been seeing: the adults take turns, one doing a 12-hour day shift and the other doing a 12-hour night shift. I could have set my watch by their incubating schedule – well, not quite, but within half an hour, at least.

So, I wondered, if it was getting close to 6:00 and daddy had not shown up, was mama getting mad, thinking “Where is that guy?” [By the way, I was never up at 6 a.m., but I assume a changing of the guard took place then too.]

Sacrifice. Endurance. Twelve hours is a long time to sit motionless. I of course could not pick their birdbrains, but I speculated: While sitting on that nest, do they miss soaring through the air, choosing their own path and foraging for food? And what do they think about while sitting there for twelve hours nonstop? Maybe “Boy, how I’d love to stretch my wings about now!” or “Wow, am I getting hungry!”

A powerful, God-given instinct was telling these doves “You have one job right now, and only one. Keep these eggs safe and warm.” So she (and then he) sat and stayed. Sat and stayed. Sat and stayed. Alternating for 14 days.

I would want my freedom to see what’s going on around the corner, to enjoy a bird’s-eye view from wherever I choose, to go out to eat, to get things done, to socialize, to check my cell phone.

As I watched one day, I remembered when Jesus sent out His disciples, He told them “I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore, be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves.” (Matthew 10:16, NIV). The New Living Translation calls these birds “harmless.”

Maybe, I speculated, the innocent nature of the dove is why God chose to compare the Spirit of God to this fowl. “And when Jesus was baptized, immediately He went up from the water, and behold, the heavens were opened to Him, and He saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming to rest on Him.” Matthew 3:15 (ESV).

By the end of the first week, I lost my aggravation and resentment. I began to appreciate the natural wonder I was privy to in these gentle birds. I developed nothing but admiration for their demonstrated sacrifice, commitment to duty and unwavering consistency. Maybe there was a lesson out on my veranda, I realized, for this human who is sometimes selfish, impatient, irresponsible and inconsistent.

I never got to see the eggs hatch or the baby doves being fed because I took an extended trip. But I think I saw the part I was meant to see.