The Murres Are Jumping

God’s advice is always good and right, isn’t it?  

A few months ago, Dave and I traveled to the coast. There was no practical reason to make the trip, but heeding the inexplicable stirring of the Holy Spirit, we set out.

We stopped by a small bookstore an hour before it closed. The owner’s husband and dog waited at the entrance, their faces anxious. The storekeeper herself seemed a bit harried, despite her attentive assistance.  

Finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer, and asked. “Would you like us to leave? It’s getting near to closing time. You must be eager to head home.”

Her reply came as fast as a seagull diving for an abandoned chip. “No, no, please stay. I simply want to get to the lighthouse as early as possible. The murres are jumping.”

A long conversation followed, in which she explained that murres are a type of seabird. We got caught up in this woman’s excitement and decided to check it out for ourselves.

We raced to the lighthouse and took our place along the fence to watch.

The young hatch hundreds of feet above the ocean, high up on the massive rocks just off our Oregon coast.  When the father murres deem their chicks ready, they wait on the water’s surface, calling out encouragement to their babies. Something along the lines of—in English, and human— “Hop off that rock, honey. There’s a whole world of wonder waiting for you. Come on!” To us it sounded like party favors tooting.

The chicks answer back something like, “I’ve never flown, I’ve never touched water, let alone swam. Are you nuts?” Smaller, frightened party favors.

And so it goes. Supposedly, once they jump, they never return to the rocks. They understand their purpose for living and embrace it.

We heard this banter, the coaxing, the pleading from the dads. The yeah-no way terror from the kids. It was difficult to listen. Which brings me to my point.

Those cries reminded me a lot of God, His voice forever patient, saying to me, “Jump, baby. I’ve got you. You’ll see, this is worth it.”

And those babies? They were so crowded on those rocks they could barely move. There was no food, no water, no shade, no relief from the endless crying. The shrieks as the chicks jumped off the cliffs to an uncertain future, hit hard.

I turned my back on the scene. It was too ugly, too real, too … me. My mind fast-forwarded. As most of us know, when God’s whispers aren’t heard, He’ll shout. As loud as a thousand birds. I could no longer ignore His call. So this is that what this little trip is all about, Lord?  

I’m gulping air, already flapping my wings as I step closer to the edge of my own “cliff.” After all, I’ve never done what He’s asking. What if I fail? There’s a chance I could be flattened when I hit the water, or that something beneath the surface will grab me as a mid-morning snack. But there’s a bigger chance—as if anything God decides is chance—that I’ll land on waves softer than my current humdrum nest has always seemed. And along the way I’ll learn to fly. Truly fly.

I’m standing, toes hugging the “rock” before I lean in and take the plunge. And you know what? I’m eager. I’m ready to trust. Because He’s waiting to catch me.

He’s waiting for you, too. Jump.

Written by Admin


  1. This is beautiful! Thanks for sharing.

  2. I think I’ll do a swan dive…. 😉
    Such a beautiful picture. Thanks, Heidi.

  3. Amen! 🙌 Leap after leap, God is forever faithful! 💗

  4. I can sure relate to your post, Heidi. Thank you for the vivid image.

  5. God, via webmaster: Blog.
    Me: Blog? Ack…
    God, via webmaster: Blog.
    Me: Blog? Nuh-uh. Wanna write Stories…
    By now you know from whom: Blog.
    Me: Writes a post… This isn’t nearly as much fun, you know. and SEO/Yoast? Come on, you’ve gotta be kidding. What a pain in the neck.
    Them again: Blog.

  6. Yea, it’s that jump. Kind of similar to the first step. Both make our knees shake. And we know the steps and the jumps are covered in faith…ours….for a Father that never fails or fails us. But my knees still shake.

  7. “Thank you, LORD, for giving listening ears and a willing heart to Heidi. Thank you for jumping murres! Thank you that Your ways are always best, even when we jump with trepidation. You are Faithful! In Jesus’ Name. Amen.”

    Heidi, this was a delightful, inspiring post. Thank you.

  8. Hello Heidi, it’s Monday, 6/15/2020. After reading this dates entry by you in Mornings With Jesus, my curiosity led me to your Facebook site. Your Murres account reminded me of my pre-hydrocephalus
    surgery. The thought of my neurosurgeon “entering” my cranium to place a shunt had “ put me on the edge of the cliff”! As I sang to myself “ Keep your eyes upon Jesus ”, the thought of undergoing cranial surgery gave way to calm thoughts. If we just sing or say His Name, our fears can be turned to secure
    Images of Him and a peaceful state of mind.
    Thank you for your stories and reflections of life with

  9. Hi Heidi, this is My first visit to your site. I needed this devotion about the Murres. I’m in a new place of widowhood and God is beginning to call me to write my journey. Scary but I want to be faithful to His call. I feel like I want to crawl down off the rock not jump. I know either way, He’s Here to help me. You have encouraged my heart.

    • Hello Sharon,
      I’m so sorry for your great loss. This is a very difficult time, I’m sure, made worse by the pandemic. But I’m sure you’re right—God is with you and always will be. I wish you well in your writing journey. It’s an opportunity to grow as you help others. And whether you jump, float or crawl down, I will tell you the water’s fine! 🙂

      I invite you to reach out to me here or on Facebook whenever you need to. And if you want, I’d love to include you in my quarterly newsletter list. I try to make it as uplifting as possible.

  10. Thanks for your kind words. Yes, I would love to be on your newsletter list. Thank you!

  11. After reading your devotional in Mornings with Jesus today I thought if I looked you up I might find a reference for a Christian vineyard near me like the one that you described. But I found your writing about the Murres instead. I’ve been seeking a quiet place away from it all to meet with God. I’ve questioned whether Jesus heard me when I poured out all my fears and uncertainties about how to move in a new direction at this juncture of my life. He’s telling me he’s heard me. Take the plunge. He is there to provide all the guidance and direction that I need. Thank you Heidi.

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