The Song of the Father
Did you know when songbirds are born, they don’t know how to sing? It’s actually the father bird that teaches his tiny one their own sweet song. He sings it over and over again with resolve and repetition, until one day the music makes a memory of the melody. The father patiently makes certain that the song is tucked so deeply within, the nestling knows it by heart and sings right along. After a while, the song the father created for his little one becomes a part of them. The song composed the day they were born. The song of their identity.
One of my most favorite verses is Zephaniah 3:17. It’s the only time in Scripture that our Father is recorded as singing. And He’s singing over His children:
“The LORD your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, he will rejoice over you with singing.”
Sweetest One, He’s singing over you.
A songbird will only struggle with their song if they’ve been injured or impaired—an event significant enough can cause an interruption of identity. Then and only then does it appear that the song of the father is forgotten. It takes something serious and sinister to steal the song from a songbird.
Do you remember your song, Beautiful Songbird? Did you know that you have one? If not, it may be that something—or someone—has silenced what The Father wrote the day He created you. It’s the song of your spiritual identity.
I was only seven years old when Satan tried to steal my song. I learned about a woman I’d never met nor heard of who’d given birth to me and a man that fathered, but wanted no part of me. It’s no coincidence that it was precisely the time I was just beginning to learn who God was, and that He loved me and wanted to be my Father. Oh, but the enemy of our identity is serious, and he is sinister. He watches and waits for opportune times not only to steal, but also to kill and to destroy (John 10:10). In one defining moment, The Thief made sure that I believed I was unloved, unprotected, unworthy and unwanted by the people in my life—and even more so, by God.
I’m thinking some sweet songbird reading this knows exactly what I mean.
Your song-story is likely different, but no less painful. Maybe you feel unloved after a divorce you never wanted or a death you never expected. Or you feel unwanted by someone when you long to be close to them. Or perhaps you feel unworthy after losing yourself—again—and you’re desperate to be free from strongholds or addictions. Or maybe you feel unprotected after something precious was taken—your innocence. One diagnosis, one misplaced trust, one moment of weakness, one confrontation, or one conversation was all the evil one needed. One significant event caused an interruption of your spiritual identity, and that was the day you forgot your song.
—Temporarily.
Over the years, scientists have studied the music-making of the songbird. One group played recordings to young zebra finches containing the songs of their father, of the little one’s own lyrics, and of the sounds of similar species of birds. The researchers found that as the young birds listened to what was sung over them, they would typically react to their own tune, they would reject the unfamiliar sound of another, but they would always, always respond to the voice of their father. This demonstrates that the one who went to such loving lengths to make sure his child knew his song wanted to be sure they’d be able to recognize the unfamiliar sound of an imposter—and to reject it.
Last year, The Holy Spirit revealed to me that there are seven spiritual identity “thieves” used by the evil one to oppress the children of God and attempt to silence His song. Like beautiful birds ensnared in a trap, we may not even realize we’ve been caught in a cage of comparison, depression, pride, words, malice, apathy and fear. I wrote “Miss Taken Identity: Come out of the Cage and Fly into Freedom” to expose the lies of the enemy using seven sweet birds—the mockingbird, sparrow, goose, magpie, raven, peacock and swallow to illustrate how we can become imprisoned—and the lengths Christ will go to set us free.
Our passage in Zephaniah was what Father God used to remind me of my song. It references a time when God’s people will celebrate blessing and freedom. It’s the promise of rescue from captivity, victory over their enemy, and assurance that nothing—not past mistakes nor future failings—affects His love for His child. Far from it. In fact, the Lord is so overcome with joy and affection for His people, He literally bursts into song. To anyone feeling unworthy, unloved, unprotected and unwanted, as I was—this was music to my ears and healing to my heart.
Sweet Songbird, Satan can only momentarily silence the song of your Father—try as he might, he can’t steal what’s been sealed. And, like your identity in Christ, your own sweet song is tucked deep within your very soul—the song He composed the day you were created. If you can’t hear it now, just ask Him to sing over you again and again. Your patient Father will go to loving lengths to make certain you know it by heart until the music makes a memory of the melody.
And you sing right along.
Love,