Three Angels Broadcasting Network Devotional.
Bird Rescue.
By Cari Christian
July 2nd, 2026
Depression silently laid itself over my being like a leaded cloak. Sadness engulfed me; it was the anniversary of my mother’s death and though I hadn’t given it any conscious thought, something deep inside of me just knew.
People praised me for my stoicism during Mom’s illness, and for returning to work immediately after she died. Stress and shock prevented me from realizing the terror I felt before she died, and how devastated and alone I felt afterward. When physically injured, we seek medical attention, but often ignore injuries of the mind and heart. I needed help. Professional help. But learning that I’d have to wait two weeks before seeing a Christian counselor deepened my depression.
Dusk settled as I plunked onto the steps and picked up the neighbor’s kitten, Misty. “God help me,” I breathed. Suddenly Misty leaped from my lap and into the grass, puzzling over something completely invisible. I stepped off the porch and felt the grass in front of her. There, my fingers encountered a lump of scraggly fluff attached to a wide, yellow smile—a baby bird.
Would this tiny creature live overnight without nourishment? Once inside, I poked wet millet bread into its throat. Its gullet bulged. Is that normal? I wondered. I hope I haven’t harmed it.
Soon I was searching the Internet on the care and feeding of nestlings, and a moment later, it stirred. Anxiously, I peered into the box. The little bird shuffled around, stuck it’s behind into the air, and … well, let’s just say that all its vital systems were functioning. As it snuggled into a nest of tissue and slept, I concocted a mash of kitten chow and egg for the following day.
The next morning an open beak greeted me. Advised by the wildlife center to keep the bird, this was the first of many feedings that would happen at least every half hour, from dawn till dusk, for the next three weeks.
Feedings were incessant. Cleaning was constant. My chirping companion demanded continual attention, and claimed the attention and affection of others, too. Many took interest in seeing it survive and thrive and willingly gave their time and resources to help a seemingly insignificant nestling that could have easily been a cat’s amusement and snack.
God was interested in seeing me survive and thrive too, so he sent a baby bird to rescue me until I could learn to take better care of myself. As it turns out, all of Heaven is interested in me—and in you, too! Luke 12:6–7 says, “‘Are not five sparrows sold for two copper coins? And not one of them is forgotten before God. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.’” Just as the many people eagerly contributed to my little nestling’s maturing into a healthy bird, so all of Heaven’s resources are poured out for God’s little ones, you and me, right down to God giving us His continual attention and sending His own Son to rescue us and teach us how to live and survive.
Just so you know, Cedar, as we came to call him, took to the treetops with other birds, but came back for rides on my shoulder and supplemental feedings for a number of weeks after he began living outdoors. He even came inside to escape the summer heat or to dry off after a rainstorm a few times, but those are stories for another time. Now that spring is rolling back around in North America, I just hope he’ll bring the grand-birdies by for a visit.
Bird Rescue.
By Cari Christian
July 2nd, 2026
Depression silently laid itself over my being like a leaded cloak. Sadness engulfed me; it was the anniversary of my mother’s death and though I hadn’t given it any conscious thought, something deep inside of me just knew.
People praised me for my stoicism during Mom’s illness, and for returning to work immediately after she died. Stress and shock prevented me from realizing the terror I felt before she died, and how devastated and alone I felt afterward. When physically injured, we seek medical attention, but often ignore injuries of the mind and heart. I needed help. Professional help. But learning that I’d have to wait two weeks before seeing a Christian counselor deepened my depression.
Dusk settled as I plunked onto the steps and picked up the neighbor’s kitten, Misty. “God help me,” I breathed. Suddenly Misty leaped from my lap and into the grass, puzzling over something completely invisible. I stepped off the porch and felt the grass in front of her. There, my fingers encountered a lump of scraggly fluff attached to a wide, yellow smile—a baby bird.
Would this tiny creature live overnight without nourishment? Once inside, I poked wet millet bread into its throat. Its gullet bulged. Is that normal? I wondered. I hope I haven’t harmed it.
Soon I was searching the Internet on the care and feeding of nestlings, and a moment later, it stirred. Anxiously, I peered into the box. The little bird shuffled around, stuck it’s behind into the air, and … well, let’s just say that all its vital systems were functioning. As it snuggled into a nest of tissue and slept, I concocted a mash of kitten chow and egg for the following day.
The next morning an open beak greeted me. Advised by the wildlife center to keep the bird, this was the first of many feedings that would happen at least every half hour, from dawn till dusk, for the next three weeks.
Feedings were incessant. Cleaning was constant. My chirping companion demanded continual attention, and claimed the attention and affection of others, too. Many took interest in seeing it survive and thrive and willingly gave their time and resources to help a seemingly insignificant nestling that could have easily been a cat’s amusement and snack.
God was interested in seeing me survive and thrive too, so he sent a baby bird to rescue me until I could learn to take better care of myself. As it turns out, all of Heaven is interested in me—and in you, too! Luke 12:6–7 says, “‘Are not five sparrows sold for two copper coins? And not one of them is forgotten before God. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.’” Just as the many people eagerly contributed to my little nestling’s maturing into a healthy bird, so all of Heaven’s resources are poured out for God’s little ones, you and me, right down to God giving us His continual attention and sending His own Son to rescue us and teach us how to live and survive.
Just so you know, Cedar, as we came to call him, took to the treetops with other birds, but came back for rides on my shoulder and supplemental feedings for a number of weeks after he began living outdoors. He even came inside to escape the summer heat or to dry off after a rainstorm a few times, but those are stories for another time. Now that spring is rolling back around in North America, I just hope he’ll bring the grand-birdies by for a visit.
Three Angels Broadcasting Network Devotional.
Bird Rescue.
By Cari Christian
July 2nd, 2026
Depression silently laid itself over my being like a leaded cloak. Sadness engulfed me; it was the anniversary of my mother’s death and though I hadn’t given it any conscious thought, something deep inside of me just knew.
People praised me for my stoicism during Mom’s illness, and for returning to work immediately after she died. Stress and shock prevented me from realizing the terror I felt before she died, and how devastated and alone I felt afterward. When physically injured, we seek medical attention, but often ignore injuries of the mind and heart. I needed help. Professional help. But learning that I’d have to wait two weeks before seeing a Christian counselor deepened my depression.
Dusk settled as I plunked onto the steps and picked up the neighbor’s kitten, Misty. “God help me,” I breathed. Suddenly Misty leaped from my lap and into the grass, puzzling over something completely invisible. I stepped off the porch and felt the grass in front of her. There, my fingers encountered a lump of scraggly fluff attached to a wide, yellow smile—a baby bird.
Would this tiny creature live overnight without nourishment? Once inside, I poked wet millet bread into its throat. Its gullet bulged. Is that normal? I wondered. I hope I haven’t harmed it.
Soon I was searching the Internet on the care and feeding of nestlings, and a moment later, it stirred. Anxiously, I peered into the box. The little bird shuffled around, stuck it’s behind into the air, and … well, let’s just say that all its vital systems were functioning. As it snuggled into a nest of tissue and slept, I concocted a mash of kitten chow and egg for the following day.
The next morning an open beak greeted me. Advised by the wildlife center to keep the bird, this was the first of many feedings that would happen at least every half hour, from dawn till dusk, for the next three weeks.
Feedings were incessant. Cleaning was constant. My chirping companion demanded continual attention, and claimed the attention and affection of others, too. Many took interest in seeing it survive and thrive and willingly gave their time and resources to help a seemingly insignificant nestling that could have easily been a cat’s amusement and snack.
God was interested in seeing me survive and thrive too, so he sent a baby bird to rescue me until I could learn to take better care of myself. As it turns out, all of Heaven is interested in me—and in you, too! Luke 12:6–7 says, “‘Are not five sparrows sold for two copper coins? And not one of them is forgotten before God. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.’” Just as the many people eagerly contributed to my little nestling’s maturing into a healthy bird, so all of Heaven’s resources are poured out for God’s little ones, you and me, right down to God giving us His continual attention and sending His own Son to rescue us and teach us how to live and survive.
Just so you know, Cedar, as we came to call him, took to the treetops with other birds, but came back for rides on my shoulder and supplemental feedings for a number of weeks after he began living outdoors. He even came inside to escape the summer heat or to dry off after a rainstorm a few times, but those are stories for another time. Now that spring is rolling back around in North America, I just hope he’ll bring the grand-birdies by for a visit.
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