Yesterday, I sat at the window after hearing a bang against the glass. A small brown bird lay on my welcome mat. Neck twisted to the left, slight spasm of the wings, eyes closed.
I freaked out, called my mom into the room, asked my step-dad to put the dogs away (Yes, my evil dogs eat poor little birdies from time to time).
I sat by the window that overlooks my deck for 40 minutes. The bird had small white eyelashes and a chest that looked like leopard fur... or those brown spotted seashells I had on my shelf as a child.
The chest was still ebbing and flowing. That gave me hope while I prayed for my little winged friend. Is it sacrilegious to pray for a bird?
Eventually she sat up with her wings tucked tightly in, after ten minutes her legs gained strength and let her stand. Her wings shook and her feathers puffed out, she put on a few pounds in appearance. I thought for sure she was almost ready to fly. However she tucked her wings back again and closed her eyes at the pain of effort.
She began to look around, alert for once. She moved her legs a bit and the shock wore off.
She burst into flight.
This weekend I felt so much pressure to take off in flight. I watched my sister and her beautiful friends graduate from college, hold there boyfriend's hands, and talk about their plans. I felt very single, very lost without a set plan, and just plain LAME.
God whispered gently to me that I was that bird. So many changes have occurred this year.
I feel a bit like I just ran into a window.
He is standing right next to me, praying for me, he has put the enemy away so that he will not harm me.
He has given me assurance that it is okay to rest. I can sit still with my savior as he prays over me, comforts me, encourages me. I am making sure my legs still work, my wings still spread, my head is on straight. And then without warning I will
burst into flight.