The Flight of the Hummingbird

I’ve seen The Big Year a few times before. If you haven’t watched it, it’s a sweet movie about birding. But today, something about it felt different.

Lately, I’ve found myself unexpectedly drawn to birds — their colors, their freedom, their quiet presence in the world. And today, I read about the hummingbird. That tiny, fragile-looking creature. The kind that weighs about as much as a paperclip. And yet… it can migrate hundreds of miles, flying solo, across the Gulf of Mexico.

No compass.

No crew.

No certainty about what it will find.

Just instinct — and trust.

And I kept wondering: Is it not afraid?

Because if I’m honest, I’ve been afraid.

Of the future. Of failure. Of doing something alone.

But the hummingbird keeps flying.

Not because it knows exactly how — but because something within it says, Go.

And then I remembered Jesus’ words:

“Look at the birds of the air… your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” (Matthew 6:26)

This tiny bird, with its short 3–5 year life span, still lives boldly. And beautifully.

It reminds me that God hasn’t just made creation functional — He made it majestic. He didn’t just create for survival — He created for wonder.

And if He provides for something so small, so light, so fleeting…

then surely, He provides for me too.

Maybe awe is the way back to trust.

And maybe trust is the quietest form of faith.