Mockingbird

But since we have the same spirit of faith as that shown in what has been written, “I believed; therefore I spoke,” we also believe, therefore we also speak. (2 Corinthians 4:13)

Mockingbirds, you either love their midnight serenades, or you hate them. To me, they are DJ’s playing the favorite songs of other birds. They memorize what they hear and remix it into a playlist that rocks through the night.

According to biologists, mockingbirds aren’t expressing joy that’s pent up in their little birdie hearts. The males sing to establish the boundaries of their territory. The volume and eloquence are meant to intimidate rivals into staying away from their mating and feeding territory. Mockingbirds sing from compulsion, not only from delight.

I, too, have songs trapped in my chest. Jesus giving his life for us is not an event I can keep to myself. Like the mockingbird, it’s not only my delight, but my compulsion. I must sing.

The gospel has not been explained to forty percent of the global population. I can start by asking that group for permission to sing.

For the percentage that has heard about Jesus, most disbelieve because they haven’t witnessed changed lives in those who preach. For them, the Christian message is so much rhetoric from copycat mockingbirds.

I can talk about the gospel, write about it, even sing it out, but my most effective communication is made by my lifestyle. Only when my words match my actions does my proclamation become a sweet song instead of a grating annoyance.